RaeAnne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer\Woodrose Mountain\Sweet Laurel Falls (92 page)

She almost had to close her eyes at the jittery hunger his
words evoked. Thirty-seven, she reminded herself sternly. Much too mature and
centered to be tempted into necking with a guy in the backseat of a
car—especially when the man in question was the only one with whom she had ever
enjoyed the activity.

“You'll have to try that particular walk down memory lane with
someone else. I'm tired and I'm going home. Good night, Jack. Thank you for
helping me scrape my windows and for keeping me from cracking my tailbone on the
ice. I'll be sure to watch my step more carefully from now on when I'm around
you.”

He laughed again. “Good night, Maura. Sweet dreams.”

At last—about ten minutes too late for her peace of mind—he
closed the vehicle door behind her. Maura drew in a deep, cleansing breath,
aware of the tremble of her hands and each pounding heartbeat. She shifted into
gear and drove out of the parking lot, wondering how the heck a January night in
the high Rockies could turn so steamy.

* * *

“W
OW
.
T
HIS
IS
A
SURPRISE
. You brought me lunch.
Thanks, Mom!”

Maura forced a smile for her daughter, who sat behind a
tasteful oak desk in the reception area of the Hope's Crossing branch of Jack's
firm. The reception area wasn't large, perhaps twelve feet by fifteen feet, but
it was decorated with comfortably sturdy mission-style furniture, and a couple
of Arts and Crafts–era lamps with shades of bronze glass that looked as if they
belonged in a museum somewhere.

Sage wore one of the blazers she had purchased at her favorite
thrift shop. She seemed as polished and cool as the office, until Maura looked
closer and saw the circles under her eyes, the pale cast to her features.

“We need to talk, and I couldn't figure out another way to pin
you down. Eat your turkey wrap. Dermot Caine fixed it especially for you. I
think he always adds extra yellow peppers because he knows you love them. Go
ahead. Eat.”

Sage studied her for a moment, then obediently untwisted the
paper around her sandwich and took a small bite. Maura took a bite of her own,
though she wasn't very hungry. Parents needed to lead by example, right? Anyway,
it was no big sacrifice. Dermot's sandwich wraps were always delicious, even
when she wasn't in the mood to eat.

Her gaze kept drifting to the closed door behind her daughter,
and she finally had to ask. “You said your, er, Jack is out of town?”

“He had meetings in San Francisco for the rest of the week.
He's supposed to be back on Saturday night, though.”

Maura told herself she'd only asked because she didn't want to
be interrupted for this long-overdue discussion with her daughter. She certainly
wasn't interested in his whereabouts for her own sake.

She wasn't avoiding him. Or at least she didn't want to
admit
she was avoiding him. Ever since that stunning
kiss the week before, she had gone out of her way to park in the opposite
direction from his office and to make sure their paths didn't have any reason to
cross.

She couldn't help it if the memory of his mouth, hard and
determined, and his hands slipping inside her coat left her breathless. Okay,
maybe she had spent far too much time this past week reliving that kiss. She was
quite sure that was just a case of the winter crazies and would pass soon
enough.

“This is nice,” she said, dabbing at the corner of her mouth
with one of the napkins Dermot had included. “I've hardly seen you since you
moved back. It seems like you're always studying or over at one of your friends
or here at the office. I think I saw you more when you were living in
Boulder.”

“I guess things
have
been a little
hectic,” Sage said.

“Right.” She took a deep breath and set down her lunch. “That's
probably why you haven't gone to the see the doctor like you promised me last
week.”

Sage shifted and looked away. “I didn't promise anything. I
said if I needed a doctor, I would go.”

“But you haven't. And you're still not feeling well, are you? I
didn't tell you this last week, but even Jack has noticed. He even asked me if
you have an alcohol abuse problem. I told him you had a bug you couldn't
shake.”

“I don't have a drinking problem and I don't need a doctor,
Mom. Back off, okay? I'm fine.”

“You're not fine, honey. Since you came home, you're always
pale and you don't have any energy. I'm worried about mononucleosis. It runs
rampant on college campuses, from what I understand.”

“I don't have mono.”

“You might! How do you know? It takes a blood test before you
know for sure.”

“Jeez, Mom. Did you seriously do a Google search for
‘mono'?”

“I was just looking up your symptoms,” she said, trying not to
feel defensive. She was a mother worried for her child. Nothing wrong with that.
“Admit it, you haven't felt well since you came home. Even during the holidays
you weren't yourself.”

“Give me a break. I had just discovered the identify of the
ultrasecret father you always claimed didn't exist.”

“I never said Jack didn't exist. I only told you he wasn't a
part of our lives and tried to stress you still had Chris, who was—and still
is—an excellent stepfather. The point is, you're not yourself. We need to make
sure you don't have something contagious.”

“It's not contagious,” Sage muttered.

“How do you know? I made an appointment with Dr. Harris. She
has one last opening today at five. I'm sure Jack would understand if you closed
up the office a little early in order to make it.”

“No.”

And Jack called
her
stubborn. She
ground her back teeth and wondered why her daughter's strong will always took
her by surprise, even after nineteen years of coming up against it. “You're
going to the doctor,” she said as sweetly as she could manage, “even if I have
to get your uncle Riley to come in here, handcuff you and stuff you in the
backseat of his patrol car.”

Sage snorted. “As if he ever would.”

“He might. You never know. What's the point of having a brother
who's the chief of police if you can't take advantage of the badge once in a
while?”

Sage shook her head. She fidgeted with her turkey wrap for a
moment, then placed her hands flat on the desktop. “Mom, I don't need to see Dr.
Harris.”

She sighed. “You need to be examined by
somebody
. Is there another doctor in town you would rather see?”

“I saw a doctor at student health services when I went back to
clean out my dorm room.” Her daughter spoke the words like a confession, fast,
with the syllables all blurred together.

Maura stared. “Why didn't you say something? Did they give you
any medication? What was the diagnosis?”

“Well, the good news is I don't have mono.” One corner of her
mouth lifted as if she were trying to make a joke.

Was it something more serious?
Cancer?
Maura felt as if every internal organ had frozen. Her heart
surely had stopped beating, her lungs couldn't draw air, her blood was no longer
pumping. “What? What did the doctor say?”

Sage sighed. “I didn't want to tell you like this. I don't know
how
I wanted to. The truth is, I
didn't
want to, but…well, not like this, here in the
office over turkey wraps.”

Her face was frozen now too, and she could barely form any
words through the sudden panic attack overwhelming her. She couldn't lose Sage
too. She
couldn't
. “Tell me! What's wrong?”

Sage chewed her lip the way she used to when she was working on
her times tables. “I'm pregnant.”

Maura sank back in her chair as everything started working
again in triple time. She couldn't have heard correctly. She was
hyperventilating, her breath coming fast and shallow, and her stomach gave a
sickening curl. “You're…what?”

“You know. Preggers. Knocked up. Bun in the oven.”

She couldn't think. She could only stare at her pale daughter
sitting in this elegant office that represented everything Sage had ever
wanted.

“How?” The word scored her throat.

“The usual way, Mom,” Sage said, her tone dry. Still she didn't
meet Maura's gaze, but resumed fretting with the paper wrap on her sandwich.

So many things made sense now. Sage's exhaustion, her sudden
emotional outbursts, the upset stomach. Why hadn't she said anything? All
through the holidays, she hadn't so much as given away a hint. Had their
relationship become so superficial and strained since Layla's death that Sage
felt she couldn't confide in her anymore?

“I didn't know you were even dating anyone,” she whispered.
“Not since Michael Jacobs in high school.”

Sage didn't lift her gaze from the desk in front of her. “I'm
not. Not really. It was…just one of those things.”

“Who is the young man?”

“I don't want to talk about that right now, Mom, if you don't
mind. I haven't figured out what I'm doing yet.”

“What are you
thinking
about
doing?”

“I don't know. I really don't.” Sage sighed. “I guess I'm just
stupid, but I didn't even suspect I might be pregnant until Christmas. I wasn't
having my period, but I just thought…I don't know, that my cycle was all messed
up because of stress and school and Layla and everything. When I went to the
health center, they—
we
—figured out I must be about
fifteen weeks along, which kind of eliminates some of my easier options, you
know? I'm not sure if I could actually
use
those
options, but I guess it can be harder to get a second-trimester abortion.”

This couldn't be real. Her daughter talking about abortions and
trimesters as if she were discussing the latest movie trailer. Maura felt by
turns icy cold, fiery hot, then completely numb.

“You're looking pale. Are you ready to kill me now?” Sage
whispered.

“No. Oh, no. It's a…shock, that's all.”

She suddenly remembered being seventeen and pregnant and alone
and having to tell her own mother. Mary Ella had been just months away from
James McKnight walking out on the family. She had
hated
adding to her mother's stress and had put off telling her as
long as she possibly could.

“It was a shock to me too. We, uh, used protection, but I guess
it failed. Obviously.”

Sage gestured to her abdomen, which now Maura could plainly see
was bulging. A baby. Her daughter was going to have a
baby
. She still couldn't wrap her head around it. She was only
thirty-seven years old. Certainly too old to be a
grandmother,
for heaven's sake.

“I'm sorry,” Sage said, her voice small. “I know this changes
everything.”

“Yes. Yes, it does.”

Sage looked so defeated, so small, that Maura did what she
should have done in the first place, what she
would
have done if she hadn't been reeling from the concussive grenade her daughter
had just thrown in her lap. She leaned across the desk and wrapped her arms
around Sage.

Her daughter smelled of wool from her sweater and
watermelon-scented shampoo. When Sage was first born and they were living in the
little apartment above String Fever she had rented from Katherine, Maura used to
hold her daughter for hours, her face buried in her neck as she savored the
scent of baby powder and breast milk and a world of possibilities.

“You're not mad?” Sage asked.

She hugged her more tightly. “No, honey. How could I be? I
would be the world's worst hypocrite to yell at you about an unexpected
pregnancy, wouldn't I? I just wish you had told me.”

In her ear, Sage sniffled a little, which made Maura sniffle as
well. Sage eased away to grab a tissue from the box on her desk and handed one
to Maura too.

“I've been trying to figure out the best way to tell you,” she
admitted. “I just… With everything I've been dealing with—Jack and working here
and my online classes—it just seemed easier to put it out of my head. I guess I
figured I would deal with everything later.”

She had vivid memories of having the same instinct. For a long
time after she finally figured out she was pregnant with Sage, she had wanted
nothing more than to hide in her bed with the covers over her head and pretend
none of it was real, that Jack was still there, that she wasn't pregnant, that
she wasn't alone and terrified.

“You can't do that, not when you have a pregnancy to consider.
Deal with everything later, I mean. Somebody else is now depending on you to
make sure you're filling your body with proper nutrients and doing everything
you can for a healthy baby. Are you taking prenatal vitamins?”

Sage nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked
impossibly young for this conversation. “The clinic doctor prescribed them for
me, and I've really been trying to eat better since I found out. I also made an
appointment to follow up with a doctor over in Telluride to start on all the
prenatal visits. It's next week. Now that you know, would you…could you come
with me?”

“Yes. Of course.” Maura squeezed her daughter's hand. “I'll do
whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Mom. That…means a lot.”

How much more stress could she endure in a month? First having
Jack come back, then Sage leaving school and now this, all on top of the grief
that seemed her constant companion.