Second Chance at Love (The MacKenna Born & Bred Trilogy) (23 page)

“No, it doesn't sound strange at all,” Logan replied. “In
fact, it was probably a very normal reaction. I get it, Rissa.”

She attempted a smile. “I thought you would,” she said,
looking into his eyes. “On the day the baby was born, Brooke had been having
terrible contractions. She'd called the doctor, and they told her to get to the
hospital immediately. I drove her, speeding like a crazy woman all the way
there, praying that they would be okay. They took her into Labor & Delivery
immediately, and gave her something to stop the contractions. But it didn't
work. They tried everything and nothing worked. The doctor was there and tons
of nurses, running around trying to prepare for the baby. She was coming
whether they liked it or not.” Karissa said, rubbing at the dull ache that had
begun to invade her forehead. “Then Brooke gave birth, and the baby was tiny.
So tiny,” Karissa added. “Almost immediately we knew something was wrong
because they were talking amongst themselves in hushed voices and moving just a
little too fast. Brooke kept asking them about the baby, if she was okay. She
wanted to hold her. But they told her that the baby had pulmonary issues
because her lungs were underdeveloped. She was in distress and she couldn't
breathe. She needed to go to the NICU, stat. The nurses took her away. It all
happened so quickly.”

“You don't have to finish, Rissa. I can see how upsetting it
is for you to talk about this.” Logan hated seeing her this way.

“No, that's where you're wrong, Logan. I do have to finish.
You should at least know the circumstances of your daughter's birth, and death.
Brooke and I are the only two people who can give you that much. Honestly, I
don't know if Brooke could get through it, reliving it again. I know that she
would be okay with me sharing it with you. And I want to make sure you know, so
I do need to finish. If you want to hear the rest.”

“You know I do,” he said quietly, his eyes filled with
anguish. She nodded, understanding completely.

“The nurses kept us updated periodically. One of the hardest
things had been waiting, just waiting to hear something, anything. But there
was no new news to share. Then, about two hours after the nurses had taken her,
the NICU doctor came in and told us that the baby had an infection in her lungs
and that the health of her lungs was deteriorating rapidly. He said that Brooke
needed to prepare herself for the worst. He said the baby likely wouldn't
survive through the night. They let Brooke go into the NICU to see her. It was
then that Brooke named her. Her little Alexa, she'd called her. She was so
small and she could barely breathe, even with everything hooked up to her.
Brooke didn't leave her side. They still wouldn't let her hold the baby, not
then. A few hours later, the Special Care doctor approached Brooke. They told
her that she could go ahead and hold her. I think they knew somehow that it
wouldn't be much longer. Brooke held her, cradled in her arms, with all of the
tubes still hooked up to her.” Karissa's voice began to break, and she couldn't
hold the tears back. “I wasn't able to go into the NICU, but they let me sit
outside the nursery. I watched the entire time from the other side of the glass
window. A little while later, I heard Brooke's voice; she was panicked and
yelling. Then she started sobbing, just sobbing uncontrollably, and I knew. She
was still holding the baby. Crying and rocking her. The nurses had to take the
baby from her.” Karissa paused for a minute, trying to compose herself, before
finishing the story. “When Brooke came out into the hallway, I hugged her. I'd
never in my life heard anyone cry the way she did. It was heartbreaking. Not
until you,” she said softly, looking at Logan. He looked away uncomfortably.

“Why is it those times in your life when you're at your
weakest point that you have to have an audience to witness it?” he asked.
Karissa reached out to squeeze his hand.

“In case you need someone to lift you up,” she replied.
“Everyone needs people who can do that for them sometimes. For Brooke, I
couldn't do anything except try to console her, and to let her know I was
there.”

“I'm glad you were there for her, I really am. I'm glad that
she wasn't alone,” he said. “But I should have been there, Rissa. I should have
been there.” Logan's voice cracked, and when she looked at him again his eyes
were full of unshed tears. She continued, needing to share the rest.

“Two days later Brooke was discharged from the hospital. I
made the funeral arrangements for Alexa and then we buried her.” Karissa
recalled it well. It had been the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. She could
only imagine how devastating it must have been for Brooke. “Brooke's doctor
recommended grief counseling, but Brooke refused to go. She said she would
handle her grief in her own way and that her feelings were private. I wanted to
stay with Brooke for a while, but she wouldn't let me. She insisted that I go
back to school. So I did. I called her every single day, even if it was to hear
her voice for only a few minutes. I was so worried about her, about her state
of mind. She was horribly depressed, for months. She'd left school that
semester because she couldn't function. She went back in the spring. By then,
things had gotten a little bit better. And by better I mean she was getting out
of bed, eating, things like that. It took a long, long time for her to get back
to herself, or at least as close to her old self that she could get after going
through an experience like that.  I wanted to tell my parents from the moment I
found out she was pregnant, but Brooke wouldn't let me. She threatened to shut
me out of her life. I couldn't believe it. I should have told them anyway, and
taken my chances with Brooke. She would have forgiven me eventually, at least I
like to think she would have. But I was young and stupid and I made the
decision to keep Brooke's secret. It's a decision I've always regretted,
Logan.”

“I know about regrets, Rissa, how they eat at you and leave
you raw. Letting go of them is sometimes the hardest thing to do.” Logan
thought about his own. He still hadn't found a way to let them go. “Thank you
for telling me all of this. I know it wasn't easy for you.”

“I just need for you to know that I'm sorry.” She sighed
heavily.

“I know you are, and it's okay. I'm not angry with you, if
that's what you're asking.” He managed a half-smile that didn't quite reach his
eyes.

“I wouldn't blame you if you were,” she responded.

“Let's not think about that anymore.”

She walked into his arms for a hug. He held her close.
“You're like a sister to me, Rissa,” he said.  “I could never stay angry with
you.” He meant it. Letting her go, he cleared his throat. “Ah, did Brooke run
into town or something? I noticed her car isn't here. I was hoping to see her.”
Karissa looked at him apologetically. “What? What is it?” he wanted to know.

“Brooke's gone,” she said. “She went home, to California.”

She saw the surprise, and then the alarm, in his eyes.
“When?” he asked, his voice low.

“She left two days ago,” Karissa told him. “I talked to her
last night. She had just gotten home.”

He took a minute to digest this news. “How did she sound?
Did she seem okay?”

“No, not at all,” she said. When she saw the concern in his
eyes, she quickly added, “She's been through a lot, both of you have. Healing
takes time.”

He supposed she was right about that. Healing did take time.
He knew that first-hand.  Unfortunately, though, sometimes when your heart's
been broken badly enough, it never completely heals. Not all the way. Logan
blew out a breath as he ran a hand through his hair. So, she'd run again. Why
was she always running away from their problems instead of facing them head on?
Wasn't he at least worth the fight? he wondered.

The California sun was merciless. It beat down with a
vengeance on the Pacific coast, bringing with it a stifling heat. As day gave
way to evening, the golden glow ebbed away gradually, and a cool breeze swept
through the air. It felt wonderful.

Brooke had spent the past few days cooped up inside trying
to avoid the suffocating heat. She'd only ventured out in the evenings for her
run, followed by her swim, and to relax out on the patio. The heat hadn't
afforded her much time for the first two before night settled in. Tonight she'd
decided to forego her run and her swim. Ashley had dropped by under the guise
of missing her and wanting to visit. Brooke knew her friend had simply wanted
to check up on her, to make sure she was alright.

Brooke had phoned Ashley the night she'd made it in from
Montana, and Ashley had rushed right over to see her. But Brooke had put her
off the past couple of days, wanting, needing, to spend time alone. She hadn't
been in the mood to socialize, not even with Ashley. And
that
was how
depressed she'd been.  Ashley wasn't taking no for an answer tonight, though.

She'd insisted on bringing dinner, Chinese takeout, which
was one of Brooke's occasional indulgences.  And wine. So they'd enjoyed a nice
dinner on the patio with some wine and music, and as much conversation as
Brooke could manage. Brooke's appetite wasn't at its best, but she'd managed to
eat half of her meal, so that was something. She'd had only one glass of wine,
and when Ashley half-filled their glasses again, she'd let hers sit. She wasn't
much of a drinker under the most normal of circumstances.

Brooke pushed the food around on her plate with her fork, thinking
of what she planned to do the next day. It would be Sunday, a perfect lazy day,
like most of her days had been recently, she realized, for going through some
stuff around the house. She'd wanted to tackle it for quite some time, but
never seemed to fit it into her busy schedule.

She still had a week and a half before she had to go back to
work, and she planned to use the time constructively. No more crying, no more
moping around feeling sorry for herself. But that was easier said than done.
The distraction of keeping busy around her pretty little house would help with
that. She'd zoned out, she realized, when Ashley called her name, waving a hand
in front of her face.

“You back?” she asked jokingly, when Brooke directed her
gaze toward her.

Brooke forced a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About you-know-who?” she asked, not wanting to use the L
word. She'd made that mistake once, the night she'd come over to see Brooke
when she'd gotten back from Montana, and Ashley wasn't about to do it again.
Brooke had burst into tears, followed by a bout of uncontrollable sobbing,
which ended with some soothing on Ashley's part, and mint chocolate chip ice
cream for both of them. All of it.

Brooke shook her head. “No, not in about 10 minutes or so,”
she said, with a half laugh that didn't really reach her eyes. “You know, it's
funny how I went back to Montana thinking that I would simply avoid Logan, but
that didn't work out so well. Then I figured I'd make it through any encounters
I may have had with him, because he didn't mean anything to me, he didn't
matter. So it wouldn't matter. But then it seemed as if fate was just pushing
us together. Before I knew it, I found myself hoping that I would run into him,
and then being hugely disappointed if I didn't. That's when I knew,” she said,
and rubbed her hands up and down her arms, as if for comfort.

“When you knew what, exactly?”

“That I was falling.” The words sounded strange, even to her
own ears. “He told me he loved me. He said the words because he wanted me to
know exactly how he felt. But I didn't say them back. I couldn't. Because if I
did, it would make my feelings real. And I was terrified that if I told him
that I loved him back, then it would give him the power to hurt me. And I never
want to hurt like that again. Never.” Her voice was wrought with tension.

Ashley laid her hand over Brooke's and squeezed. She knew
that Brooke needed to talk, so she would just listen.

“I was thinking about getting some stuff done around here
tomorrow. Things I've put off much too long. That should keep me busy for most
of the day. Oh, and I'm going to start reading your new book. Thanks for the
advanced copy,” she said, running a finger over the vibrant colors. “I
absolutely love this cover,” Brooke went on, “It's gorgeous.”

“Thanks, I'm rather partial to it myself,” Ashley said, her
painted lips curved into a smile. “You know, the book tour is coming up next
week and I'll be away for a little bit. And you'll be going back to work soon,”
she added. “Why don't we take a mini-vacation, you know, to.....” she trailed
off. “I don't know, anyplace. Anywhere you want to go. It'll be great for you,”
Ashley said, in her most persuasive voice.

Brooke just looked at her, blankly. “I can't, Ash,” she
said. “I really can't. I just came home from Montana after two and a half
months. I haven't even settled back in yet. Besides, I'd be terrible company
for you, trust me.”

“Come on,” she insisted. “It'll be fun. Pretty please.” she
said, getting up from the table and moving to one of the chaise lounges where
she could stretch out.

When Brooke only smiled and shook her head,  Ashley threw
her hands up in the air, a row of glittery bracelets jingling at her wrist.
“Okay, fine,” she said, pretending to sulk. Brooke laughed at Ashley's feigned
dramatics. “Well, at least come sit with me and relax,” Ashley said. “We can
pretend we're in some exotic place where all the men are gorgeous and have
mysterious accents and naturally, are mesmerized by our beauty.” Brooke laughed
at her friend's imagination.
That's why she's the writer,
Brooke
thought.

Brooke stood, her chair scraping the brick of the patio as
she pushed it backward. About to join Ashley on one of the chaise lounges, she
caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned her head in the
direction of the patio's edge. The surprise showed all over her pretty face.
Her initial thought was that she'd had too much wine. But one glass of wine
wasn't likely to make her hallucinate, she knew. She didn't say a word, she
couldn't. She simply stared.

Logan stood near the edge of the patio, next to her pretty
garden, watching her. The sweet scent of jasmine filled the air and it reminded
him of Brooke. And there she was, he thought, larger than life, standing only a
short distance away. He was nervous, he realized, and unsure of what to say.
There were so many thoughts running through his mind, so many feelings bottled
up inside him.

Karissa had given him Brooke's address, and had promised to
keep it on the down-low. He'd taken a direct flight out of Missoula that
afternoon, and then rented a car at LAX. When he'd pulled into the front drive
of Brooke's pretty two-story home, there had been two cars in the driveway,
Brooke's and another, a sporty model. He had no idea who it belonged to.

He'd knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. He
knew she had to be home. He walked the path around the side of the house, and
that's when he'd heard it. Music, soft, yet unmistakeable. And the sound of
Brooke's voice. He'd followed that sound, and it led him to where he stood now.
One look at the glass table told him she wasn't alone. The evidence of a shared
meal still graced the table, with two half-filled glasses of wine.

Logan had begun to feel uneasy. The dinner and wine, the
music, the strange car in the driveway. He didn't see anyone else, but he'd
heard Brooke talking. Apparently someone was there. Was she entertaining? Was
she with another man? His mind entertained a dozen crazy scenarios as he
watched her, and she stood there, looking at him in surprise.
I'll bet she's
surprised
, he thought, his mood darkening miserably.

The sudden movement to his right had him whipping his head
around to see Ashley, getting up from one of several chaise lounges that were
strewn about the patio. She glanced at Brooke and caught the bewildered
expression that crossed her friend's face. Turning her head to look, she caught
sight of Logan. She shrieked, and ran to him, laughing and throwing herself
into his arms at the same time. She caught him off guard, and he nearly
stumbled backward. He hugged her back before setting her back on her feet.

“Sorry,” Ashley murmured. “I realize that such a dramatic
greeting should have been Brooke's, but she appears to be a little dumbstruck
at the moment. It's so great to see you.”

“It's good to see you too, Ash.”

“Hi,” he said to Brooke when she'd made her way around the
table. His voice was low, hesitant.

“Hi,” she offered back.

Ashley kissed Logan's cheek, then walked over to Brooke,
kissing hers in turn, and snatched up her purse from a nearby chair.

“I'm just gonna go,” she said, walking around Logan toward
the side of the house. She gave Brooke two thumbs-up behind his back as she
went. “Night you two,” she called out as she disappeared out of sight. Neither
of them said a word.

Brooke slowly made her way toward Logan, stopping directly
in front of him. She stood there, uncertain of what to do. She knew what she
wanted
to do, but how he would feel about that remained a mystery to her at that
moment. So she waited. She wasn't sure why he was here. Had he come to talk to
her about things? Surely he could have accomplished that with a phone call. Or
had he come for some other reason? He'd traveled a good distance to California,
so obviously it was important. God, she hated feeling so confused.

As quick as a lightning strike, Logan snaked an arm around
her waist and pulled her toward him. He kissed her, long and deep, until Brooke
could no longer think, until her mind went numb and her senses reeled.

She kissed him back, her mouth demanding more, her body
molding itself to his as they shared this perfect moment of intimacy, like in
those old movies she used to watch with her mother when she was a kid.

When Logan pulled back and lifted her chin in his hand, her
eyes were filled with emotion, the kind that jabbed him right in the heart.

“I love you,” he murmured, his eyes an intense green as he
watched the smile flit over her beautiful face. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“That must be an awfully lot,” she teased. When he laughed,
deep and male, she launched herself into his arms, thrilled at the way he held
onto her, like he would never let her go. “I love you, Logan, more than you
could ever imagine,” she breathed. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry.”

“I'm sorry, too,” he told her. “Sorry that I blamed you,
when in reality it was my fault, too.”

When she looked at him, quizzically, he continued. “You were
right. If I hadn't cheated, we never would have broken up. You wouldn't have
moved to California. You wouldn't have been alone and pregnant. You wouldn't
have had all of the stress, emotionally and physically. I caused that stress.
Me.  Maybe you wouldn't have gone into premature labor. And maybe our baby
wouldn't have died,” he finished, with a hitch in his voice.

“That's a lot of maybe's, Logan. Don't do that to yourself.
Don't take the weight of it all on your shoulders. You'll go crazy if you do.
Even without the stress factor, I may still have had complications. Who knows?
I was wrong to say what I did that night at my parents' house. I was wrong, and
I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, any of it. It was me being defensive because I
knew that I was wrong not to tell you about the baby from the moment I first
learned that I was pregnant. I just want you to know that I didn't keep it from
you to hurt you. I just couldn't tell you in the beginning. It was too much. I
was going through the absolute worst pain of my life, and I was trying to deal
with that. I couldn't even function. And as time went on, it became harder to
tell you. And when I lost the baby, and I was trying to deal with that
horrible, raging grief, I just couldn't. And in my mind I justified not telling
you for those reasons. I wanted to spare you that grief. The baby was gone, and
there was nothing anyone could do to bring her back. Why should you have the
burden of that grief, like I did? I wouldn't wish that on anyone. But I know
that it was wrong, and that you had a right to know. There was no excuse for me
not telling you. None. I hope that in time you'll be able to forgive me. I hate
knowing that you feel resentment toward me because of what I did.  But I don't
blame you. I don't.” She took a deep breath.

“It's all I've been able to think about for the past week or
so. I hate that you kept something so vital from me. Brooke, we made a baby. A
baby that was the product of our love, and our passion. You know me, Brooke.
You know that I would have wanted our baby, that I would have loved her. Before
you came home to Montana, I used to think about what could have been. If none
of it had ever happened, we would have stayed in Massachusetts, at least until
we were both finished with school. We would have been together and everything
would have been perfect. Factor in the baby. You would have gone through the
pregnancy, and you would have given birth to our daughter. I would have been
there with you, through it all. We would have had a beautiful little girl who
we would have loved and adored. But we would have been together, Brooke, and we
would have been happy. We had dreams. We had a lifetime planned. And then it
all went to hell. And I take full responsibility for that. Even now, all these
years later, I still can't believe that I did what I did. That's not me, Brooke.
I'm not that type of person. I never meant to hurt you. I hope you believe
that. And I hope that you can forgive me one day.  All I know is that I love
you, Brooke. I love you more than it should even be possible for a man to love
a woman. I'm not saying that I'm not hurt over you keeping the baby from me,
because I am. And I'm still angry. But I'll find a way to deal with it. I don't
want it to come between us, and I love you enough not to let it. I can't bear
the thought of losing you again. I can't.” His voice broke, and he tried to
swallow past the lump in his throat.