First and Again (21 page)

“Why do you say that?”

“Because all these years you’ve had this ideal image of our father in your head. He definitely wasn’t a saint. He was a very flawed man.”

Bridget wasn’t sure if she wanted to let go of her idealized picture of her father. That image had sustained and comforted her for a long time. If she lost it, would she lose the happy memories she had of her father?

And if she acknowledged that her sister’s view of the past was more accurate than her own, did that mean she could no longer blame her mother for destroying her family?

“So your fight with Jack, was it just over Leslie?”

“Yes, of course. I told you.”

“I’m sorry about your fight.” Celia removed her arm from Bridget’s shoulder and grasped her hand. “Maybe neither of you would have gotten so angry if you didn’t care about each other so much. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

She stared in shocked silence at her sister.
Love?

“Just be careful,” Celia continued, a worried frown creasing her forehead. “I don’t know if Jack will ever be ready for anything permanent. Victoria burned him pretty badly. And then, I’m not sure he ever got over you the first time.”

She averted her gaze. Her stomach clenched with nervous tension. Perhaps Celia was right. She wasn’t sure she’d ever gotten over him either.

* * *

A few days later Bridget was surprised to see Jack and Leslie at the back door of the upstairs apartment. She and Jack hadn’t spoken since their argument the previous weekend. She’d wanted to phone him numerous times during the week, but had been unsure of her reception. Her heart fluttered in relief and trepidation at the sight of him.

“I took a chance that you and Rebecca would be home,” he said. He looked as if he wasn’t sure how welcome he’d be. “I was hoping we could talk for a minute.”

“Yes, of course.” She took Leslie’s mittened hand and smiled. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there.”

They stepped inside and she closed the door behind them. Jack helped Leslie take off her coat and boots, and she couldn’t help but think that Leslie was more than capable of doing that small task for herself.

Rebecca walked into the living room. Her face lit up when she saw Jack and Leslie.

“Hi! Are you staying for supper?” She looked eager for them to stay. She’d asked several times during the week when she could go out to the ranch again, and Bridget hadn’t known what to tell her.

“We have plenty,” she said quickly. “It’s almost ready. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Thanks, but we can’t.” Jack smiled in regret. “Gladys left us a casserole. Besides, I have to get home to do chores.”

Rebecca looked as disappointed as Bridget felt. “Oh. Okay.”

“Actually, we came to invite you two for dinner tomorrow night. It’s nothing fancy, just chili.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Do you think you can make it?”

She looked at her daughter’s eager face before turning to smile at him. “We’d love to. Thank you.”

“Rebecca, sleep over at my house,” Leslie said, pulling on Rebecca’s arm. “Please, please.”

“If you stay overnight,” Jack said, “you can help me with the horses in the morning and I can bring you home after lunch.”

“Can I, Mom? Please?” Rebecca was as excited about the prospect of seeing the horses as she was about the sleepover.

“As long as Jack’s okay with you staying, it’s fine with me.”

Rebecca stooped to hug Leslie. “I’ll bring a movie to watch.”

“Goody.”

“Leslie, we have to get going.”

He held out her coat for her and helped her into it, closing the zipper. Leslie slung one arm around his neck for balance while he pulled the boots on to her feet. Bridget bit her tongue, not wanting to air her frustration at his inability to let her dress herself. They’d just come to a small truce and she didn’t want to trigger another round of fighting.

He straightened to his full height and zipped his own coat. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“No, I’ve got it covered. But thanks.”

He took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. The gesture lasted only a moment but in that small space of time he communicated his happiness and relief in seeing her again. He stared into her eyes, looking like he wanted to say more, but it was impossible with both girls watching.

“Goodbye,” he said, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Gladys is away tomorrow so I can’t promise gourmet fare, but I usually don’t screw up chili too badly.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She was surprised by how much she wanted to kiss him. She’d missed him more in the last week than she’d ever thought possible. It wasn’t just the sex, though she couldn’t help longing to be held in his arms once more, and feeling his body meld with hers. She missed talking to him, sparring with him, laughing with him. It had been a very lonely week.

They left a moment later. Bridget pushed aside the curtain on the window of the door to watch them leave. Jack carried Leslie down the outside stairs. The stairs leading to their second floor apartment were wide and sturdy. She had swept off all traces of snow from the stairs so she knew they weren’t slippery. Leslie might be a little awkward but she was capable of descending the steps on her own, maybe with Jack holding her hand to steady her. Why did he feel compelled to treat her like an infant?

When she let the curtain fall back into place and turned around, her daughter was watching her closely. She raised her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Why was Jack holding your hand?”

Her question caught her off guard. “Because we like each other.”

“He looked like he
really
liked you.” Rebecca frowned. “Don’t you miss Daddy at all?”

“Rebecca,” she said wearily, “I’ve told you before. Your dad and I are not getting back together.”

“Maybe when we go back home and you see Dad again you’ll change your mind,” she insisted. “Maybe you’ll want us to be a family again.”

“That’s not going to happen, honey.” She’d tried to tell her daughter this many times before but it didn’t seem to sink in. Maybe it was time for some hard truths. “Your dad is with someone else. We don’t love each other anymore.”

“I miss Dad,” Rebecca said. Her eyes filled with tears, but she held them back, swallowing hard. “I can hardly wait to go back to San Francisco when school’s out.”

“Have you thought about staying here in Paradise on a permanent basis?” Bridget asked carefully. She hurried on when Rebecca’s eyes went wide with surprise. “You can visit your dad every chance you have and you know you can call him anytime. He’s welcome to come here as well.”

“Are you saying that we’re not going home when school’s out?” Rebecca said in disbelief. “You promised me! You said this was only for a few months.”

“I know, but things have changed. I’ve reconnected with my sister. Don’t you like getting to know your cousins?”

“You want to stay because of Jack,” Rebecca accused. “That’s why you don’t want to go back to Daddy.”

She didn’t bother to point out that Ben had long since moved on, and even if she had been so delusional as to think they could get together again, he wouldn’t want her. Anger for her ex-husband flared in her heart. Why was she the bad guy in Rebecca’s eyes when it was Ben who had deserted them in the first place?

“I like Jack, yes, but I think you do too. He’s been very good to you, Rebecca.”

She made no comment. Instead, she turned on her heel and went to her room, slamming the door behind her. Bridget sighed and went back into the kitchen to check on a dinner she didn’t know if anyone would eat.

She wished with all her heart that her daughter could accept that her parents would never be together again. But then, she hadn’t accepted her parents’ divorce when she was Rebecca’s age either. And if she was honest with herself, she had never accepted the fact that her father was gone from her life. Until his death in a car accident when she was sixteen, she’d held out the hope that he’d return someday and be welcomed back into the family. His death had only fueled her anger with her mother.

She groaned.
Like mother like daughter.
Would she have to endure her daughter’s anger and disappointment for the rest of her life?

Chapter Nineteen

“Knock, knock,” Leslie said with a giggle.

“Who’s there?” Rebecca answered.

“I-8.”

“I-8 who?”

“I-8 lunch. Is dinner ready?”

She laughed uproariously at her own silly joke, while Rebecca and Bridget groaned. Jack smiled to himself. After the events of the last few weeks, it was wonderful to hear her laugh again.

“I know another one!” she said. “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” Rebecca said.

“Bacon.”

“Bacon who?”

“Bacon a cake for your birthday!”

Rebecca grabbed Leslie with one hand and tickled her with the other, making her squeal with delight.

“I’ve got one for you,” she said. “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” Leslie giggled.

“Dewey.”

“Dewey who?”

“Dewey have to keep telling these knock-knock jokes?”

Both girls collapsed in giggles. Jack exchanged a glance with Bridget. In her eyes he read her happiness for the girls, her joy at being together again. He was sure his own expression mirrored that happiness. The house had felt empty and cold the past week without Bridget and Rebecca. Although he’d been busy with work and had made a point of being around people, he’d never felt more lonely in his life.

It wasn’t an emotion he cared to repeat. Nor did want to examine his feelings too closely.

He set the steaming pot of chili on the table, then stood back to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything for dinner. He smiled as he watched Bridget and Rebecca set the table, moving around his kitchen with familiar ease. He was suddenly struck by the picture they made. They were the family that belonged in this kitchen. It felt right having them here.
This is where they should always be.

Leslie held up her hands. “Daddy, help me wash.”

“Okay, Sunshine. Let’s go.”

When he emerged from the bathroom with Leslie, he felt Bridget’s eyes on him. She quickly averted her gaze, but not before he caught the look of disappointment on her face. He clenched his jaw in irritation, knowing the cause of her disappointment. So he helped Leslie wash her hands. Big deal. She thought Leslie could do it herself, but he knew she wouldn’t do a thorough job of it. Besides, it was faster if he did it for her.

Bridget would never understand.

How was it he could feel so connected to her one minute and so totally at odds with her the next?

“Let’s eat. Like I said, I usually don’t screw up chili too badly.”

“It smells wonderful,” Bridget said with a smile. “I’m sure it’ll taste great. Besides, I’m so hungry I could eat almost anything. Even your chili.”

He grinned at her, his tension easing at the teasing in her voice. “Gee, thanks.”

Much to his relief, dinner went well. The chili tasted okay and the girls were happy to be together again. Leslie told some more of the corny jokes she’d memorized, and Rebecca regaled them with stories about the kids at school. It was good to laugh with Bridget again. God, how he’d missed her.

He glanced across the table at her and she looked back at him, giving him a small smile that told him she’d missed him too. He’d give anything to pick her up and carry her to his bedroom right now. But for now, he’d content himself with just listening to her laugh.

Soon they finished eating and the girls pushed away from the table.

“C’mon, Becky. Let’s go watch a movie.”

“Hey, just a minute,” Bridget said. “You guys don’t get out of work that easily. Put your dishes in the dishwasher.”

Leslie eagerly gathered her dishes, placing her utensils and glass on top of her plate. On the way to the dishwasher, she bumped against a chair and stumbled, sending her glass to the tile floor where it shattered into a hundred pieces.

“Damn it, Leslie, I’ve told you a hundred times to leave the dishes alone.”

He regretted his words immediately. Leslie lowered her head in guilt and embarrassment while Rebecca stared at him in confusion, not understanding the reason for his outburst. But the look of disappointment Bridget gave him was like a punch to the gut.

“It’s my fault, Jack, not Leslie’s. I asked the girls to help,” she said quietly.

He couldn’t look at her. “She could cut her foot on the broken glass. They both could. I have to get the broom. Stay right there, both of you! Don’t move!”

His hands shook with anger as he grabbed the broom and dustpan from the closet. He was angry at Bridget for not understanding that Leslie couldn’t handle even simple household chores. Mostly he was angry at himself for letting it get to him. And for showing everyone how much her limitations upset him.

He swept the broken chunks of glass into the dustpan and dumped them in the garbage. Neither of the girls had moved and Bridget stood off to one side, watching warily. He stooped to give Leslie a kiss and then pulled Rebecca in for a hug as well.

“I’m sorry I yelled. I yell when I’m afraid and I was afraid one of you would step on the broken glass and cut your feet. I’m sorry, girls.”

“It’s okay, Jack,” Rebecca said.

“It’s okay, Daddy.”

He kissed both of them, unable to speak. No, it wasn’t okay. It was never okay to yell at them.

Finally, he found his voice. “Why don’t you go watch your movie now? You can use my office.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

They left the kitchen, Rebecca throwing a worried glance over her shoulder at him. He closed his eyes in misery. Damn it, he hadn’t wanted to lose it like that.

He grabbed the broom once more and gave the floor another sweep to make sure he hadn’t missed any tiny shards of glass. He was aware of Bridget’s eyes on him the entire time, even as she cleared the table and washed the chili pot.

“Are you okay?” she asked after a long silence.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“It’s just a glass, Jack. No one was hurt.”

“I know.” He couldn’t look at her. He finished sweeping and threw the debris into the garbage.

“Jack, please, I don’t want to fight anymore.”

At last he looked at her. He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight with you either.” He held out his arms. “Come here.”

She walked into his arms. He held her tight, her cheek resting against his chest. He listened to her uneven breathing, as if she were struggling not to cry. He wondered if she could feel the pounding of his heart.

Nothing had been resolved. They’d come to truce, a decision to agree to disagree. How long would it take before they clashed again?

He held her a little tighter.

* * *

The following Sunday, one week before Christmas, Mavis’s church held a children’s Christmas concert. The children reenacted the Nativity, sang carols and then were each given a bag of goodies. Bridget sang all the old carols with the rest of the congregation. It had been a long time since she’d been in church. The joy she received from the simple ceremony brought tears to her eyes. Mavis reached across Rebecca and squeezed her hand. Her mother’s smile told her she understood.

It was the first time she and her mother were truly in sync.

Celia had invited them to her house after church for lunch. It had been years since she’d spent Christmas with her family. For too many of those years she’d worked over the busy Christmas season, catering Christmas parties and New Year’s Eve celebrations. This year she’d help Mavis cook Christmas dinner and enjoy the holidays with her daughter and her family. Joy filled her heart at the thought.

Jack’s truck was in Celia and Gavin’s yard when they arrived. She shouldn’t really be surprised since Jack was Gavin’s brother, but this was the first time Celia had invited them to her house together. Was this her way of publicly acknowledging their relationship?

Celia’s house was filled with the irresistible aroma of fresh baked bread that made Bridget’s stomach rumble in hunger when she entered.

She kissed her sister’s cheek.

“That smells so good. I’m starved.”

Celia laughed. “I’m nervous cooking for you. It’s hard to compete with a professional chef. I have the feeling you’ll be critiquing my work.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll be too busy stuffing my face.” She lowered her voice. “I didn’t know Jack was coming.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Celia grinned, knowing full well she hadn’t. “He and Jane and Leslie are in the living room. Why don’t you say hello?”

“Are you sure you don’t need help with something in the kitchen?”

“No, everything’s under control.” She pushed her toward the door. “Go. Enjoy.”

As soon as she entered the living room Leslie saw her and ran into her arms. She stooped to hug the little girl.

“Hi, sweetheart. Merry Christmas. Just five more sleeps.”

She held out her chubby hand, her fingers spread wide. “Five more sleeps.”

“You haven’t told me what you want for Christmas,” Bridget said.

Leslie giggled. “It’s a secret.”

“If it’s a secret how am I supposed to know what to get for you?” she teased. She’d already purchased a baking set for Leslie. Now when she made cookies she could use her own bowls and her own cookie sheet.

“You’ll know,” Leslie said sagely before running off to greet Rebecca. Bridget stared after her, wondering what that was about.

“Hi.”

She turned to see Jack standing in front of her, looking even more handsome than usual in a dress shirt and sport jacket rather than his customary denim.

“Hi. Merry Christmas.” She lightly kissed his cheek, aware that her whole family, and his, was watching. The spicy scent of his aftershave made her want to bury her nose in his neck and wrap herself around him.

“Merry Christmas. Did you enjoy the concert?”

“I did, very much. I was surprised Leslie wasn’t up on stage.”

A shadow clouded his face. “Bridget, you know she couldn’t participate in something like that.”

She wanted to ask why Leslie couldn’t sing a few Christmas carols with the other kids, but she didn’t want to get into it with him here in front of everyone, especially not today.

Instead she simply smiled. “Maybe I’ll teach her a few carols. We can sing when we bake cookies.”

He laughed softly. “She’d like that.”

Celia called everyone to the dining room for lunch. She steered Bridget to the chair next to Jack. He pulled out her seat for her and she sat. Next to her, Jane grasped her hand.

“It’s so nice to have the whole family together for Christmas, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Jane smiled. “I’m sure it’s just the first of many we’ll have together.”

Bridget simply smiled. Jane seemed to think she and Jack were together permanently, a couple. She wished she could be as sure where their relationship was headed.

Gavin passed a plate of baked ham to Jack. “I heard you bought a new horse.”

“Yeah, a three-year-old mare in foal.” He stabbed a piece of ham and set it on his plate. “I bought her from a breeder near Williston.”

Rebecca’s head came up sharply. “In foal? You mean she’s going to have a baby?”

“Yeah, she is. It should arrive around the first week in March.”

“Wow.” Her eyes were round with excitement. “Can I watch the baby being born?”

He glanced at Bridget. “What do you think?”

“Sure, why not?”

“These things have a tendency to happen in the middle of the night, so don’t get your hopes up. But if it’s possible, I’ll give you a call.”

“Great! I can hardly wait.”

He helped himself to mashed potatoes. “I was thinking, with this foal coming so close to the beginning of my busy season, I could use some help looking after it.”

“Really?”

Bridget glanced at him under her lashes. Was this his subtle way of enticing Rebecca to stay in Paradise?

“Yeah, really. I thought maybe you could spend some extra time at the ranch, and when the foal gets a little older, I’ll teach you how to get it used to a halter.” He casually cut the meat on his plate, but Bridget caught the tension in his shoulders.

A slow smile spread across Rebecca’s face. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Good. We’ll talk about it more once the foal is born.”

Bridget tried to concentrate on her meal, but barely noticed what she ate. He was giving Rebecca a reason to stay, one that spoke loud and clear to her daughter. She wondered if it would work.

When lunch was over she helped Celia clean up while Gavin and Jack set up tables for cards and games. Leslie pulled on Jack’s arm.

“Now, Daddy?”

He grinned at her. “Okay. Let’s do it now.”

“What are we doing?” Gavin asked.

Jack turned to his nephew. “Mike, there’s something in the back of my truck. Could you bring it in, please?”

“Sure.” Mike grabbed a jacket and sprinted out the door, as curious as the rest of them as to the mysterious something in Jack’s truck.

“Leslie and I purchased a Christmas gift for someone and she’s too excited to wait until Christmas Day to give it away.”

“Are you sure it’s just Leslie who couldn’t wait?” Gavin teased.

He grinned. “Maybe I’m a little impatient too.” He turned to Rebecca. “I hope you don’t mind that we didn’t wrap it. We couldn’t find a box that would fit.”

She stared at him. “You bought something for me? What is it?”

At that moment Mike came through the door carrying a western saddle. It was tooled leather in a warm chestnut brown and decorated with silver studs. Bridget knew nothing about saddles but this one looked like a beauty to her. Mike set the saddle on the floor and Rebecca ran her hand reverently over it.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“A horsewoman like you deserves her own saddle,” Jack said.

The look Rebecca gave Jack told Bridget that she appreciated his words almost as much as she did the gift. She ran into his arms crying.

“It’s beautiful, Jack. I couldn’t have asked for a better gift. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“I picked it!” Leslie said.

Rebecca laughed through her tears. “You did? You picked the best saddle ever. Thank you so much.” She hugged Leslie tightly.

“Welcome, Becky.”

Bridget’s throat clogged with tears as she watched the girls. The thoughtfulness of Jack’s gift staggered her. It was the perfect gift for Rebecca, one he’d chosen with care and love.