Sweet Laurel Falls. RaeAnne Thayne
happily-ever-after every young girl dreams about.”
“I still had a right to know.”
She suddenly looked tired, defeated, and he saw deep shadows in her eyes that he sensed had nothing to do with him.
“Well, I guess you know now. Yes. She’s your daughter. There was no one else. There it is. Now you know, and we can be one big, freaking happy family for the holidays.”
“Mom.” Sage moved forward a little as if to reach for Maura’s hand, but then she checked the motion and slid back into her chair.
Pain etched Maura’s features briefly, but she contained it. “Okay. I should have told you. Give me a break here. I was just a scared kid who didn’t know what to do. You left without a forwarding address, Jack, and didn’t contact me one single time after you left, despite all your promises. What else was I supposed to do? I finally tracked down your number at Berkeley about four months after you left and tried to call you. Three times I tried in a week. Once you were at the library, and twice you were on a date, at least according to your roommate. I left my number, but you never called me back, which basically gave me the message loud and clear that you were done with me. What more was I supposed to do?”
He remembered those first few months at school after that last horrible fight with his father, after he had opted to leave everything behind—even the only warm and beautiful thing that had happened to him in Hope’s Crossing since his mother’s death.
He remembered the message from Maura his roommate had given him and the sloppily scrawled phone number. He had stared at it for hours and had even dialed the number several times, but had always hung up.
She had been a link to a place and a past he had chosen to leave behind, and he’d ultimately decided it was in both their best interests if he tried to move on and gave her the chance to do the same.
That she had been pregnant and alone had never once occurred to him. Lord, he’d been an idiot.
Everything was so damn tangled, he didn’t know what to do—which was the whole reason he had agreed to give Sage a ride back to Hope’s Crossing to talk to Maura before he flew back to San Francisco.
“Look, we’re all a little emotional about this tonight. I didn’t realize you were unaware I was bringing Sage back to town.”
That little tidbit also appeared to be news to Maura. “You rode here with him?” she asked her daughter. “Is something wrong with the Honda?”
“It hasn’t been starting the last week or so. I think it just needs a new battery, but I figured I could drive the pickup while I was home and catch a ride back to school with one of my friends after the break. I can deal with the Honda before school starts next semester.”
“You should have called me. I could have driven to Boulder to pick you up.”
“Sorry, Mom. My car troubles just didn’t seem all that important in light of…everything else.”
“I guess that’s understandable.” Maura forced a smile, but he could clearly see the bone-deep weariness beneath it. What had happened to the vibrant, alive girl who’d always made him laugh, even when they were both dealing with family chaos and pain?
“So what now?” she asked. Though she looked at her daughter, he picked up the subtext of the question, directed at him. What else are you planning to do to screw up my life?
“I think you should get back to your book club Christmas party for now. I’m really sorry we interrupted it.”
“Between Ruth and Claire and your grandmother, I’m sure everything will be fine,” Maura assured her.
Much to his astonished dismay, tears filled Sage’s eyes. “But I know how much you always look forward to the party and the fun you have throwing it for your friends. It’s always the highlight of your Christmas. If anything, you needed it more than ever this year, and now I’ve ruined everything for you.”
Maura gave him a harsh look, as if this rapid-fire emotional outburst were his fault, then she stepped forward to wrap Sage in her arms.
“It’s only a party,” she said. “No big deal. They can all carry on just fine without me. And if you want the truth, I almost canceled it this year. I haven’t really been in the mood for Christmas.”
This information only seemed to make Sage sniffle harder, and he watched helplessly while Maura comforted her. Judging by the mood swings and the emotional outbursts, apparently he had a hell of a lot to learn about having a nineteen-year-old daughter.
“You’re exhausted, honey. I’m sure you’ve been studying hard for finals.”
“I haven’t been able to sleep much since the lecture,” she admitted, resting her darker head on her mother’s shoulder. He had a feeling the bond between them would survive the secret Maura had never told her daughter. As he saw the two of them together, something sharp and achy twisted in his gut.
He had an almost-grown daughter he suddenly felt responsible for, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do about it.
“Why don’t you take my car home and go back to the house to get some rest,” Maura said. “I’ll catch a ride with your grandmother or with Claire. We can talk more in the morning when we’re both rested and…more calm.”
“I’ll take her home,” Jack offered quietly.
“Thank you, but I wouldn’t want to put you to any more trouble. You’ve done enough by bringing her all this way from Boulder. I’m sure you need to get back to…wherever you came from.”
In a rush to send him on his way, was she? “Actually, I’m planning to stay in town a few days.”
“Why?” she asked, green eyes wide with surprise. “You hate Hope’s Crossing.”
“I just found out I have a daughter. I’m not in any particular hurry to walk back out of her life right away.”
The surprise shifted to something that looked like horror, as if she had never expected him to genuinely want to be part of their daughter’s world on any ongoing basis. Sage, though, lifted her head from her mother’s shoulder and gave him a watery smile. “That’s great. Really great.”
“What do you say we meet for breakfast in the morning? Unless you have to be here at the bookstore first thing.”
Maybe a night’s rest would give them all a little breathing space and offer him, at least, a chance to regain equilibrium, before any deeper discussion about the decisions made in the past and where they would go from here.
“I own the place. I don’t have to punch a clock.”
“Which usually means you’re here from about eight a.m. to ten p.m.” Sage gave her mother a teasing look.
“I can meet for breakfast,” Maura said. “Tomorrow I don’t have anything pressing at the store until midmorning.”
“Perfect. Why don’t we meet at the Center of Hope Café at around eight-thirty? We stopped there to grab a bite at the counter before we walked over here, and I’m happy to say their food is just as good as I remembered.”
“The café? I don’t know if that’s the greatest idea. You might not want to…” she started to say, but her words trailed off.
“Want to what?” he asked.
She seemed to reconsider the subject of any objection on his part. “No. On second thought, sure. Eight-thirty at the café should work just fine.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then. Shall we go, Sage?”
“Yeah.” She pressed her cheek to her mother’s. “I’m still furious you didn’t tell me about my father. I probably will be for a while. But I still love you and I will forever and ever.”
“Back at you,” Maura said,