Long-Lost Mom Read online

  She loved marshmallows.

  But now her tummy hurt.

  Instead of calling her daddy and whining, which is what she would have loved to do, she pressed her pillow close to her belly and told herself she couldn’t get sick all over the pretty lace comforter on her grandma’s bed.

  Her grandma was funny. So was her grandpa. And they had a cat named Noodles who was going to have kittens.

  She intended to beg her daddy for one when they were born.

  Her hopeful grin faded. Maybe he wouldn’t be interested. He seemed to have other things on his mind.

  Like that Cindy woman.

  Sara frowned now. She’d seen them kissing and hugging, and she didn’t like it.

  She didn’t want her daddy to like another woman, even if she was nice and pretty and smelled good the way Cindy always did, because what would her mother say when she came back?

  Sara, honey, I don’t think she’s coming back.

  Her father’s words rang in her head, and as much as Sara loved her father and always wanted to please him, she really really wanted him to be wrong about this.

  Her mother would come back. She would.

  And she’d take one look at the way his father grinned like a dork over Cindy and probably get unhappy, maybe even cry.

  Or even worse, she wouldn’t want to live with them, which would be the most awful thing of all, for Sara wanted them to all live in the same house happily ever after.

  She didn’t want to come from a family with two houses like her friend Sally.

  So while her stomach hurt, she lay there and tried to come up with a good plan for keeping Cindy and her father apart, or for at least keeping her father so busy he wouldn’t have time for anyone but Sara.

  When she had a plan figured out, she relaxed and fell asleep.

  Chapter 11

  Jenna drove mindlessly up the coast, her fingers stiff on the wheel, the night air lifting her short hair away from her hot face.

  Misery and despair were her only company. That, and the taste of failure.

  She hit the steering wheel with her fist. Once again she had chosen to destroy her life rather than deal with it. Hindsight was twenty-twenty of course, but even she knew what she should have done. She should have announced herself as Jenna that very first day.

  Stone might have been shocked.

  He might have been angry.

  He might have been really really glad.

  He might have been any of a thousand things, only she would never know. Not now.

  The highway turned narrow and curvy. To one side was a thousand-foot drop to the Pacific, which churned and pounded. The moon disappeared behind the clouds. It was a dangerous time to be driving with such reckless thoughts, especially along a stretch of highway so similar to the one where she’d had her accident. No one knew that better than she did, but at the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  She tried to remember how free and exhilarating the past ten years had been—without close friends, completely without ties.

  She’d traveled, worked when she’d needed to, then took off again at will. She’d loved that free life...well, at least appreciated it.

  Now she couldn’t imagine going back to it, not when her heart was firmly ensconced in San Paso Bay. But she couldn’t stay, and as misery continued to drag her into a pit of despair, she barely hung on to the next turn.

  Her wheels spun far too close to the edge of the road, and she skidded a bit. Her tires screamed in protest, the sound jarring and grotesque in the night.

  Shaken, Jenna pulled to the side of the road and slammed on her brakes. What was she doing?

  She sat very still and listened to the night noises. The wind. The crickets. The hoot of an owl.

  Normal. Everything was normal—except her life, which she’d effectively ruined for the second time.

  Harsh, she knew, but true. Unfairly she’d decided that Stone couldn’t handle the truth, that she had to make him trust her. She’d been wrong—horribly irrevocably wrong. Now she had to pay the price.

  Sighing, she rested her head on the steering wheel and let the tears of self-pity come.

  She’d acted wrong, nothing new. But as she wept, she remembered something she’d learned about herself in those long months in the hospital.

  Nothing in life was certain or permanent.

  She thought of Kristen and their blooming relationship. Just a month ago Jenna never would have believed it possible. But her sister had been more than willing to meet her halfway, and Jenna knew this was due in large part to her own new ability to be honest. To admit her faults.

  Why hadn’t she trusted Stone with those things, as well?

  God, the look on his face as she’d left. Hollow. Bleak. Furious, yes, but hurt, too. And you could only hurt someone like that if...if that person cared. And if he cared, it couldn’t be too late. It couldn’t be over.

  She’d fixed up parts of her life; she could certainly do her best to fix this, too. Couldn’t she?

  Determination filled her, and rejuvenated her, as well. All she had to do—indeed all that was left to do—was be honest. She could do that.

  She had nothing else to lose.

  With a faint watery smile, she started her car and drove very carefully home.

  Sara came home the following evening. Throwing herself into Stone’s waiting arms, she hugged him close.

  He held her tight and tried to surface from a fog of swirling emotions. A fog caused by Jenna.

  “They’re nice, Daddy,” Sara said of her grandparents. “Even nicer than I thought.”

  Stone looked over her head to his parents, who stood on the porch staring at him with a light in their eyes he understood well. Exaltation and exhaustion, both caused by his whirlwind daughter. “I’m glad you had a good time,” he said, his voice low and husky after a long quiet day. He’d done little but kick himself for falling for Cindy—Jenna. This pit of rage and fear and pain she’d thrown him in was horrible.

  “Grandpa took me fishing this morning in the creek!” Sara’s face wrinkled in disgust. “And we caught one, but its eyes and mouth were doing this—” She stopped talking as her mouth gaped open and then shut, her eyes wide with mock terror, in a perfect parody of a fish on a hook.

  His parents laughed. Laughed. Something tugged at Stone, something unwelcome that felt suspiciously like acceptance, almost as if his heart had warmed toward them.

  No, that couldn’t be. Jenna had just destroyed that particular organ—again. His temper surged, as it had all day long. He’d had no idea he could be so angry!

  But watching Sara giggle and gush over the things she’d done with her grandparents did warm his chilled soul. There was no use denying it.

  “She’s wonderful, Stone.” Lara’s smile was bittersweet. “And we’ve been such fools. I hope someday you come to believe me when I say how—”

  “Don’t apologize again,” Stone ordered, perhaps too roughly. “I know how you feel.”

  “Do you? I doubt it. I doubt you’ll ever understand how much I regret some of my choices, how much I have denied myself.” She lifted her chin regally, but spoke with undisguised hope. “But I won’t regret the present, Stone. Not unless you’re against this.”

  Stone turned from her to Sara. “Go unpack, honey,” he told the girl.

  She started to go, then stopped and faced her grandparents. “Thanks,” she said softly. “I love you.”

  Then she was gone.

  His mother dabbed daintily at her eyes, which Stone ignored. “What would I be against?”

  “We want to see more of her.” His father spoke with a quiet determination, yet with something else, too, something Stone thought never to hear again from him—respect.

  But he didn’t need it, not anymore, not from him.

  “We know you’re alone. We’re hoping it’s not too late to help you with Sara.” His mother touched his arm for the first time in years, beseeching him with solemn eyes.