More Than Friends (4 page)

Still, would a reprieve have been so bad? Memories from those days flashed into her mind. Despite the years that had drifted by, the past still had the power to upset her. She’d only ever really lied to Chase once. It had been one time too many.

She slammed the door shut, then turned her back to the car. After placing her hands on the cool metal, she pushed until she was sitting on the hood, then wiggled to get comfy. “You might want to join me,” she said, patting the space beside her.

“I’ll stand.” With that, he folded his arms across his chest.

Hadn’t someone once said that confession was good for the soul? Jenny had the feeling that instead of feeling better, her admission was going to make her feel like living slime. The urge to walk around the truth was strong, but that wasn’t her style. She’d just say it and let Chase react as he would. Not the whole truth, she conceded to herself. There were some things better left unsaid. Not secrets, just details that were irrelevant now and would only cloud his view of the picture.

He was already angry; she could feel it threatening them both. More important, he was hurt. For eleven years she’d missed him, longed for him, imagined their joyful reconciliation. He’d spent the same time despising her. Even so, she wouldn’t add to his pain. That would be her gift, however unappreciated.

“I never told anyone you were the father.”

“Oh?”

Chase stood less than three feet away. When he shifted his stance, she heard the crunch of the gravel underfoot. Funny how with all the noise from the mill she could tune in to the little things. Like the sound of his carefully controlled breathing. So much had stayed the same, she thought. The proud tilt of his head, the chin raised defiantly, just as she remembered. The way he balanced his weight evenly on both feet, almost like a sailor. More than anything, Chase had disliked being caught off guard.

“I guess your father accused me out of habit.” He took a step closer, then stared up at the stars.

He sounded so bitter. Not that she blamed him. Still, she had held on to the thread of hope that he would guess what had really happened and come back for her. A foolish idea, her support group would have told her. Just because you love someone, it doesn’t mean he can read your mind.

“At first, I refused to say who I’d, ah, been with,” she said, surprised it was still difficult to tell the story. She should have been over it by now. “I was humiliated by the whole thing. I was afraid of your finding out. Of word getting around town and my being labeled a tramp. Dad assumed I was protecting you. Before I gathered the courage to tell the truth, you’d left town.”

Chase cursed softly. The succinct word made her flinch. Not that she hadn’t heard it before. One couldn’t work at a steel mill for nine years without hearing colorful language, but the pain in his voice came from the heart.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“You should have thought about that before you slept with the guy. My God, you were seventeen years old. We were kids.”

“You sound angry.”

“Of course I’m angry. I thought we were waiting for each other. Dammit, Jenny, you betrayed me.”

She would have sold her soul to be able to see the expression on his face. But the darkness that hid her blush from his probing eyes also concealed his pain. Only his words hinted at the echoes of a young man’s anguish.

“I never meant to.” Guilt flashed briefly, but she pushed it away. It wasn’t her fault. It had never been her fault. In a way, they’d both been betrayed.

He exhaled slowly. “Who was this guy? Kevin Denny? Was it Kevin?”

“It wasn’t Kevin.” She sighed. “It was…nobody.”

“A virile nobody.” He took the last step to the car and leaned against the front fender. “Not that it matters, but I wish you’d told me. We were best friends, until that last day.”

His voice. She could handle the other changes. He’d grown tall, filled out in the chest and shoulders. Hard muscles rippled with each movement of his tall, lean body. In the dim light, he looked like a statue brought to life. She’d expected the boy to turn into a man, but in her mind, she’d assumed he would sound the same.

She’d been wrong. The deep tones had mellowed. It was like comparing iron ore to finely tempered steel. Both were strong, but the former rusted and crumbled away. The latter, forged by fire, lingered, supported, glowed in the light. It could be molded and bent, but never broken. His words surrounded her, gave her hope, raised her spirits, opened doors to a past she’d long thought lost. He would survive this encounter, she thought, reaching a hand out toward his arm. He was the steel, she the iron ore. When he was gone, she would crumble away. She dropped her hand to her lap.

“The guy skipped out on you?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“I can’t say you didn’t get what was coming.”

The verbal blow landed squarely on her stomach. Air rushed from her lungs and left her gasping.

“I don’t deserve that.”

“Really? I’d say you deserve a hell of a lot more.” Chase paced in front of the car. “When I left that day—” He spun to face her. “I believed in you. Trusted everything you said. You
lied
. My father expected me to give up college and support you. And I hadn’t even had the pleasure of screwing the lovely Jenny Davidson.”

Anger flashed. She started to slide down from the hood. “I’m leaving.”

“No!” His hand clamped on her arm and held her in place. “Not until you tell me why.”

Even after all this time, the memory of what had really happened was difficult to deal with. Telling the tale would bring it all back. The smell of whiskey, the tearing of her dress, the tears of shame. Her first time hadn’t been like she’d thought it would be, but then her first time hadn’t been with Chase. She shook off the feelings and concentrated on the facts.

“Do you remember the carnival?” she asked. “Not the high school one we have every fall, but the big one that comes through town in July?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

She touched his hand; he instantly released her. “Everything. Do you remember?”

“Of course.” He glanced at her. “How could I forget? It was my first hangover. I believe I have you to thank for that.”

She smiled sadly, remembering their innocence. How easily it had been stolen from them. “You’re right. We were both bored. It was hot and humid and the pool was closed for a few days.” The past drifted back, overlapping the present until she forgot to be afraid.

“You dared me to steal liquor from my father’s study,” he said.

“Only you would take Napoleon brandy.”

“I always treated you to the best. God, I was a fool.”

With a fluid motion that threatened to take her breath away, he settled onto the hood beside her. Their shoulders brushed. The feeling was so familiar, it was all she could do to keep from throwing herself into his arms. But Chase hadn’t come back to see her. He’d never called or written. He only remembered the end—when he thought she’d betrayed him. Now he was determined to punish her for her crimes.

“After we polished off the bottle, you passed out,” she said.

He shook his head. “All I remember is waking up in the middle of the parking lot and feeling like a thousand mill workers were hammering inside my head.”

“Being a lady, I was much more genteel in my imbibing.”

“Genteel, my ass. If memory serves, you liked acting big and carrying around a drink, but the taste made you gag.”

“That, too.” Her smile faded. “There I was with a curfew but no ride home. You had the Camaro, and I couldn’t drive a stick shift. I tried calling the house and asking one of my sisters to pick me up, but Dad answered the phone. No way I could have told him what had happened. I started walking home. About a mile down the road, one of the carny workers picked me up.”

“The blond guy with the mustache?”

“How’d you know?”

Chase frowned. “You’d been flirting with him all week. I was jealous as hell.” His tone was reluctant, as if he regretted admitting the weakness.

Jenny bit her lower lip. “I think that was why I did it. Testing budding female wiles and all that. Stupid really. He drove me home, but I didn’t get out of the car right away and…” She swallowed against the rising tide of the past. Stay strong, she told herself. It’s over. “One thing led to another. I never meant to…well, you know. But it happened.”

Could he see it was only half the truth? Would that even matter to him anymore?

“That’s it?” he asked. “Some guy in the back seat of a car? I expected more of you, but then that’s always been my problem.”

He hadn’t forgiven her. She’d known the risk she’d taken not saying anything all those years ago. She’d chosen to keep silent then. Nothing had changed. She was still choosing to keep silent, but this time it was for reasons of compassion rather than fear or shame. Perhaps when his father was better, she’d tell Chase the whole story. For now, she’d handle it the way she always had: one day at a time with the understanding that it had never been her fault.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I was ashamed.”

“Instead, you let me run off.”

“I didn’t know you were leaving until long after you were gone. I tried to find you.” She paused, remembering the long lonely days when there was no one to talk to but her family. When she’d been unable to look in the mirror without seeing the shame in her own eyes. “After a while I gave up trying. And then, it didn’t seem to matter so much.”

“And the baby?”

Even after eleven years, it still hurt to talk about her child. Mustering all her courage, she spoke with false casualness. “It’s ironic. Just when I’d gotten used to the idea of being a mother, I lost my baby.”

She slipped down to the ground. Tilting her watch toward the light by the mill, she squinted. “You’ll be right on time to see your father at the hospital. The night nurses will have just come on duty, so you’ll be able to get an update.”

She wanted to say something else, redeem herself in his eyes. But it didn’t matter anymore. She’d lost him the day she’d chosen to withhold the truth. All the wishing in the world wouldn’t bring him back.

He started toward his truck. When he was about six paces away, he turned back. “Why did you think I wouldn’t answer the telegram if I’d known you’d sent it?”

As soon as she’d told him why she hadn’t signed her name, she’d known this question was coming. Her mind had offered a dozen different responses, none of them the truth. The instinct to protect herself, to be flippant and worldly, was strong. But her affection for Chase, the memory of the love they’d once shared, was stronger. She opened her car door. “Because in all this time, you’ve never forgiven me. And you’ve never once tried to get in touch with me.”

There. She’d said it.

“Jenny, I…”

She could feel his confusion. “It’s okay, Chase. It was all over a long time ago. We’ve grown up. Go see your father.”

Chase stepped into the vehicle, but waited until Jenny had pulled out before starting his engine. The taillights of her car provided twin beacons out of the parking lot. Slowly, he followed her toward Hamilton Crossing. At the boundary of Harrisville, she turned right.

He paused for several seconds. He could follow her home, force her to tell him the secrets he sensed behind her casual confession about the past, but the first order of business had to be his father. Only after he’d seen the old man, found out how long he’d be in the hospital, taken care of business, would he be able to think about Jenny Davidson.

Yet as he drove, her words came back to haunt him. The darkness of the night hid the pain in her face when she said he’d never tried to get in touch with her.

He reminded himself that, after what she’d done to him, she deserved whatever she had coming. But that didn’t make him care any less. Damn. Despite the thousands of miles that had been between them, despite the years that had passed and the very separate lives they’d lived, the connection was as strong as ever. Since childhood, they’d shared thoughts and emotions, almost as if they were two halves of the same being. He’d never expected that to have remained intact. Jenny was right—if he’d known she’d still be here, he might not have returned at all.

Crossing the main street of Harrisville, he turned toward the hospital. She’d been right in not signing the telegram and he hadn’t known it until this second. Damn her. Damn them both.

*

After parking, he walked up to the wide double doors of Harrisville General. Hunched against the invisible weight of obligation, he wondered how he would make it through the next few days. Nothing had changed with Jenny. He had a bad feeling that nothing had changed with his father, either. Why had he bothered coming back? This town had always resented him; he’d been a disappointment to the old man.

“Can I help you?” The young woman behind the information counter smiled.

“I’m looking for Cardiac Care. My father is a patient here.”

“And he is?”

Chase’s throat tightened and he realized how many years it had been since he’d spoken the name out loud. “Jackson. William Jackson.”

The tall brunette’s eyes widened and her gaze flickered over Chase’s wrinkled shirt. “Oh. Mr. Jackson. Your father is on the second floor. He’s been here for quite some time.” The censure in her voice was unmistakable. He was sure he’d never met this woman, but in Harrisville, some things never changed. “Take that elevator up, then circle around it and go straight back. I think the doctor might still be in the building. I’ll page and check.”

“Thanks.”

He walked to the elevator and pushed the call button. Around him, the bustle of workers provided a muffled din to an otherwise quiet atmosphere. He smelled the lingering scent of dinner almost buried under antiseptic.

The doors swished open, then shut as quietly when he pushed the button. What was he going to say? He’d walked out of his father’s house and never looked back. Even though twice a year he’d sent tersely worded messages, there had been no answer in all that time.

His hands clenched at his sides. How much had his father changed? Would there be a woman, perhaps stepchildren, hovering at his bedside?