Lover's Lane (24 page)

“I got her at the pound. I thought that if Chris had a dog, it might keep his mind off what’s going on. It’s totally up to you, though. If you don’t want him to have her, I’ll take her up to my place.”

Carly hadn’t moved, but the dog had walked to the edge of the seat and was staring up at her with mismatched marble eyes. Slowly Carly reached out, let the dog sniff the palm of her hand. Jake saw traces of paint on her fingertips, ochre, gold, black.

“I brought along bags of food. She’s had her shots. Her former owner died, and no one else wanted her. She’s not a puppy. She won’t need to be house trained.”

The dog was licking Carly’s hand, pressing her head against her palm.

Jake waited, careful not to push any harder. Finally when Carly looked up at him, her hand was still in his—more than he’d hoped for. He figured the dog had distracted her.

Just then the screen door banged. Together they turned to see Chris come barreling down the porch steps.

“Jake! Jake! You’re back.”

Carly tugged on his hand, silently pleaded with him to let go. He did so with reluctance. She stepped aside when Chris charged into Jake and then spotted the dog.

“Is that
your
dog, Jake? Way cool!” Without hesitation Chris started petting the hound and scratching behind her ears. “Matt’s dog likes this the best. When did you get him? What’s his name?”

“He’s really a she.” Jake couldn’t help but laugh, delighted as the dog started wagging her tail and showing more life than she had since Jake had laid eyes on her at the pound.

“She doesn’t have a name yet.” Jake looked to Carly, waiting for a decision. She stepped up beside her son and smoothed Christopher’s hair.

“She doesn’t have a name because Jake just got her. He brought her for you.”

Chris slowly turned, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“For
me
?” he asked softly.

“For you,” Jake said.

“To keep?”

“To keep.” Jake reached into the back of the car for the leash he’d picked up at the pet supply outlet along with bowls and a fleece dog bed. He clipped the leash to the dog’s new collar and handed it to Chris. “I got her at the pound in San Luis Obispo, so until she’s used to living here, you should keep her on the leash, okay?”

“I know.” Chris was so excited his words ran over each other. “Matt has to walk Willa every day, and he always uses the leash. It’s not good to let dogs run around without a leash, is it, Jake? Maybe that’s how she got lost in the first place.” He paused and his smile instantly faded. “You don’t think somebody’s looking for her, do you?” His voice lowered to a near whisper. “You don’t think somebody will come and want her back. If I keep her, I can’t let anybody take her away again.”

Carly quickly turned away and started toward the house. Chris was still waiting for an answer, staring up at Jake with his even little brows puckered into a deep frown. More than ever he reminded Jake of Rick.

“Nobody’s looking for her. She was in the pound for a week, and no one showed up to claim her.”

Like the sun bursting through the clouds after a rain, Chris’ face brightened. “I’m gonna walk her around a minute in case she has to go, okay?”

“Good idea. I’ll unload her stuff. Stay right here in front of the house.” He made short work of carrying the huge bags of dog food up to the porch and came back for the bowls, bed, and rawhide chews, not once letting Christopher out of his sight.

Together they went inside. Carly was at the stove grilling a cheese sandwich. Jake unfastened the dog’s leash so that Chris could lead her to his room. Although it was nearly as big as he, Chris still insisted on carrying the fleece dog bed down the hall himself.

“Come on, girl. Come with me.” Chris waited in the doorway to the hall, but not for long. The spotted dog jumped up and followed him.

Jake watched boy and dog disappear into Chris’s room before he walked into the kitchen and stood behind Carly. He stepped close enough to smell the heady floral scent of her shining hair and was tempted to slip his arms around her waist, to enjoy the way she fit against him, but he was treading on thin ice, and he knew it.

“I didn’t just come by to bring Chris the dog,” he admitted. “I came to ask you up to the house tomorrow.”

Her hand that held the spatula stilled. The utensil hovered over the cheese sandwich on the griddle. She’d yet to turn and meet his eyes.

“Are you working?”

Tomorrow was Sunday. Her day off. “No. I just can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Finally she turned around. “Won’t.”

“I’d like to see you without Christopher.”

“You told me that once before and I was stupid enough to put on a dinner for two. Whatever has to be said, say it right here, right now.”

“You’re burning that sandwich.”

She whipped around, flipped the toasted cheese over. It was on the edge of dark brown but not ruined. Again she faced him, her green eyes wide with distrust but void of contempt.

“Tomorrow. Up at the house. Come for lunch.”

She shook her head, wary. “No.”

He held up both hands. “Broad daylight. I won’t touch you. Carly, trust me.”

“Trust you?”

“I never meant to bring this down on you, Carly.” He glanced toward the hall and lowered his voice. He shoved his hands in his back pockets in an effort to keep from reaching for her. “See me tomorrow. It won’t take more than an hour of your time.”

Just then Christopher came running out of his room.

“Come see, Jake. She likes her bed. She’s lying there with a chewy. Come see.” Chris took hold of his hand and tugged. Jake followed him down the hall.

Sure enough, the shepherd was curled up on the dog bed Chris had placed on the floor beside his own bed. She was gnawing on a rawhide bone. Chris dropped to his knees beside her and kissed her on the nose.

Chris’ voice was full of reverence and awe. “I was gonna call her Belle, but I decided on Beauty. Because she’s so beautiful.” He looped his arm around the mutt with mismatched eyes and stretched out beside her. Then he looked up at Jake with such gratitude and admiration that Jake’s heart hurt.

“You know what, Jake?”

“What Chris?” He had a hard time getting the words out with a boulder weighing on his chest.

“This is about the best day of my whole life.”

Carly took the bowl of soup out of the microwave and set it on the table alongside Christopher’s sandwich. Jake walked back into the living room. She thought he’d come to her, try to take her in his arms even, but instead, he headed for the door.

She clung to the back of one of the dinette chairs, watched him open the front door before he turned to face her.

She reminded herself not to forget what he’d done to them. She’d be a fool to go to his place tomorrow, crazy to meet him there alone.

“Noon tomorrow, Carly.”

Before her weakness was put to the test, he walked out the door.

33

CHOCOLATE. JAKE AND CHOCOLATE. BOTH IRRESISTIBLE.

In spite of a multitude of misgivings, Carly found herself driving up to his place the next day, finding it impossible to turn down a shred of hope, no matter how slight, wanting, against her better judgment, to see him again.

It was another picture-perfect morning, the kind coastal-dwelling Californians cherished before the overcast days dubbed “June gloom” rolled in.

Her anticipation mounted as the car wound up Lover’s Lane. Before she was ready, she spotted the house perched high above the sea. No one could deny the setting was perfect. The view from nearly every window was breathtaking.

As soon as she turned onto the gravel drive, Jake stepped out onto the porch. Hands in his pockets, dressed in a black polo shirt and khakis, he looked fit and far too handsome. The shade of the porch hid his features, yet she’d memorized his face, his cerulean eyes, the smile lines etched at their corners. His full lips, the cut of his jaw.

He was almost too much to resist, yet she had her mind made up. She’d come to hear him out, that was all—then she was leaving.

She parked beside his SUV and left her purse and keys in the car. The yellow mustard blooming on the hillsides rippled beneath a strong breeze off the water. She paused to watch the mustard sway, let her gaze travel to the hilltop, and squinted against the noon sun.

When she looked away from the pastoral scene, she realized Jake was standing beside her.

“You came.” He sounded relieved as he reached for her hand.

She hadn’t the will to pull away. The simple touch rocked her, and she swayed toward him, caught herself, and finally withdrew her hand for the same reason she never let herself keep chocolate around. One taste was never enough.

“I’m here against my better judgment. I hope I won’t be sorry.”

“Me too.”

He took her by the arm, walked her across the drive. It wasn’t until they were on the porch that she noticed the woman standing in the house.

Of medium height with short, stylishly cut blonde hair, she was dressed in rich brown slacks and a matching sweater and was staring down into the empty fireplace with her back to the door. As if she sensed their arrival, she slowly turned.

At first Carly thought the woman might have been Jake’s mother, but as soon as she met the woman’s eyes across the empty living room, she realized they were the same shape and color as Christopher’s—and Rick’s—except that these eyes were tinted with a cool, judgmental stare and now and again a hint of uncertainty.

Carly’s step faltered. She stopped halfway across the porch.

Trust me.

She should have known better than to trust him. She shouldn’t have come.

“What’s going on, Jake? How could you?”

“Hell froze over,” he mumbled and then added, “Would you have come if I’d told you?”

“No.”

He caught her arm above the elbow, with gentle force, he made her look up at him and ignore the older woman waiting in the other room.

He lowered his voice but it was full of urgency. “It took me hours to convince Anna to meet you. This is a chance to set things right, Carly, to clear things up between you without lawyers and courtrooms.”

She could feel the chill in Anna Saunders’ stare from across the porch and shivered. The woman had already judged her and found her wanting.

“I can’t do this, Jake. What if it backfires?”

He slid his hand down her arm until he clasped her fingers. “I can’t make you,” he said softly, his gaze wandering over her features, her hair, her lips. “But life doesn’t hand out many second chances. Take this one, Carly. Talk to her. You’ve got everything to lose and nothing to gain if you turn away now. Didn’t you teach Chris to believe that tomorrow is always better? And that’s when you get another chance to do things right?”

“I taught Chris about Santa and the Tooth Fairy, too.”

Torn, she wavered, conscious of the warmth of the hand dwarfing hers. Slowly she faced the woman across the room. Anna Saunders hadn’t moved, except to place one hand above her heart.

Jake leaned closer. His breath stroked Carly’s hair when he spoke. “She’s a mother, too, Carly. Give her a chance. Let her give
you
a chance. Ask yourself what Rick would want.”

She’s a mother, too.

A mother who lost a son.
Maybe, just maybe, Anna Saunders
would
understand. It was worth a try. Anything was worth a try with Christopher’s future at stake.

A tightness gathered around Carly’s heart. She took a deep breath, tried to ignore it, but failed. Anna Saunders had buried her son. She couldn’t even imagine Anna’s pain, the fathomless, enduring heartache that no mother should ever have to bear.

She’s a mother, too.

Carly squared her shoulders, looked over, and nodded to Jake. He let go of her hand. She pictured Chris as she’d last seen him, safe at home, entertaining Etta, introducing Beauty to Napoleon Bonaparte, trying to teach Beauty to lift her paw and shake.

“I’ll be right beside you,” Jake whispered.

“No.” She gave a slight, determined shake of her head. “This is something I have to do alone. Something between two mothers.”

In those fleeting seconds while Anna watched Carly Nolan debate meeting her, she had also studied Jake Montgomery’s expressions. Clearly he was in love with the woman, but she wondered if he even knew it yet.

As much as she hated to admit it, Carly Nolan was lovely, far from what she’d expected. Only hazy remembrance of the photo Jake had pulled out of his wallet had lingered. She’d thought she would be meeting an older version of the girl with poorly dyed hair and too many earrings. Someone ragged around the edges and unsophisticated.

Instead she found herself face-to-face with a lithe, attractive blonde modestly outfitted in black slacks and a knit sports shirt lingering uncomfortably in the open doorway. Her makeup was minimal, applied so that it enhanced her natural beauty rather than exaggerated it. The changes in the woman who Anna had come to think of as Caroline Graham gave her a moment’s hesitation.

Anna could tell by the set of Carly Nolan’s shoulders as she walked into the room that it was she, Anna, who had the advantage of surprise, which put her a little more at ease.

Anna stepped away from the fireplace. Jake had brought two lawn chairs in from the sundeck, the only furniture in the room. She walked over to one, hesitated.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Anna offered Carly.

Carly waited until Anna sat down, then crossed the floor and took the other chair. Carly didn’t relax but rather, perched on the edge of the chair.

“Why did you come?” Carly Nolan asked her.

“Jake badgered me into it. I’m sure he hopes that I’ll see something in you that will lead me to believe you love my grandson and are taking excellent care of him.”

“Of course I love him. If I’ve made mistakes along the way, they were made out of love.”

“You lied to my son.”

“No. I told him the truth. I couldn’t have married him with a lie between us.”

Anna shifted on the hard chair. The odor of fresh paint filled the house even though the doors and windows were open. She leaned forward, surprised that Carly had not once flinched under her intense stare.

“Why were you posing as someone else?”

“I was fifteen when it started. I was scared. I had to support myself. Pretending I was eighteen was the only thing I could do.”

“You ran away with Christopher. Kept us away from him—”

Carly cut her off before she finished. “Because of your lawyer, of all the things he said.”

“You were afraid there was just cause for us to become Christopher’s guardians.”

“Listen, Mrs. Saunders, I was nineteen. I couldn’t fight you in court.”

Anna gave her credit for not bursting into a maudlin display of tears. “Yet you intend to fight me now. You might very well lose everything you own.”

“Everything I own? What else matters? I could lose my son.” Carly’s voice dropped to a whisper but her gaze never wavered. “You know the heartache of losing a child, Mrs. Saunders. I don’t see how you could wish that on me or anyone, for that matter.”

Anna felt the color drain from her face, recalled the stunning spring afternoon when her whole world was shattered by a phone call.

She’d existed for weeks in a cocoon of numbness, carried on conversations, accepted condolences from friends whose expressions had told her they were truly sorry, yet at the same time relieved that they’d been spared such heartache.

“How could you say that to me?” Anna had underestimated the other woman’s strength of will.

“I’m desperate, Mrs. Saunders. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t have set foot in this house today.”

I don’t see how you could wish that on anyone.

Anna couldn’t get the words out of her head.

“I want to meet my grandson,” she blurted, fighting tears. Deep down, that was the only reason she’d ever let Jake Montgomery talk her into flying up here, the reason she hadn’t told Art Litton that she was coming. He’d always been loyal to Charles, so much so that after Charles’s death, he hadn’t wanted to give up the hunt for Christopher. She knew without a doubt that Art would advise against any kind of withdrawal of the petition. He would never advise her to back down.

But Art Litton be damned, she
had
to see Christopher for herself, wanted so desperately to meet him that she’d taken Jake up on his offer, flown up and hired a driver to bring her to Twilight.

When she saw that something akin to hope had flared in Carly Nolan’s eyes, she thought of Charles and of Art Litton and warned herself to remain resolute.

“Will you drop the suit?” Carly asked.

The last time Anna spoke to Arthur Litton, he hadn’t gotten his hands on any information from the court-ordered investigation. He advised her that at this point things looked very promising, but that there were no guarantees.

“You’re asking me to take your word for it that Christopher is a well-adjusted child, that you are a perfect mother without letting me see him for myself? Without letting me talk to him?”

“I never said I was perfect. I’m certainly doing the best I can. How do I know you won’t frighten him? Or threaten him? He knows nothing about your petition.” For the first time Carly looked away. Staring down at her hands she admitted, “Chris overheard me mention your name and asked about you. I told him that you were his grandmother.”

“What did he say?” The desperation in her own voice disgusted her.

“He was excited. His friends talk about their aunts and uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers, all the time. It hasn’t been easy trying to explain why there’s no one in our lives. There’s just been the two of us, and as much as I’ve tried to do for him, the one thing he doesn’t have is family.”

Family.

How would have things worked out if Rick had had his way and married this woman? Would she have ever fit into their world? All Rick talked about the day before he died was his son, so much so that she suspected he was only marrying Carly because of the baby. The girl was just part of the package. A child certainly wasn’t enough of a foundation to cement a lasting relationship.

Most likely, Rick would have been married and divorced by now, but even so, Christopher would have grown up as one of the family, sharing holiday traditions. By now he’d be learning to sail boats on the bay, the way Rick had as a child.

There would have been father-son outings. Birthdays.

But all these years, she and Charles had been denied time with their grandson. Time she would never, ever recover. And poor Charles. He never got the chance even to see the boy.

“Put yourself in my place, Ms. Nolan. Christopher is my son’s only child. My only grandchild. I want to know he’s in the best possible situation. I can’t make that decision until I meet him, until I see him for myself. You can either cooperate or not. At least I’ve made an attempt by coming here. What are you prepared to do?”