“Where…where is the baby?”

Emily knotted her fingers together until they were bloodless. This was the difficult part. Now she had to tell Jackson what she’d done.

“I was so scared,” she began in a trembling voice. “I tried and tried to reach you. Then my mother found out I was pregnant and she was furious at my stupidity. It was pure hell, and I didn’t know what to do. In the end, I did what my parents wanted.”

“What was that?”

“I—I gave her up for adoption.”

“We had a daughter?” he said in a hoarse voice.

“Yes, but I never saw her. I only heard her crying. I asked to hold her but they wouldn’t let me.”

He got to his feet, his body rigid. “You gave our daughter to strangers? How could you do something like that?”

“I was seventeen, alone and scared!”

“You just wanted to get rid of it as fast as possible so you could get on with your life, your big career.”

Emily rose to her feet, her eyes huge with the emotions that consumed her. “How dare you! You weren’t here, so don’t tell me how it was. You didn’t have to live through the horror and pain of hurting your parents. And you have no idea what it was like to give birth all alone and have that child taken from you before you could even see her face. So don’t stand there and act holier than thou—because you are not blameless.”

Dear Reader,

I’m sure you noticed the wedding gown on the cover. Isn’t it spectacular? It’s the winning design in Harlequin’s 21st Century Wedding Gown Contest, which was open to young designers this past year. Over 400 entries were received and 28 finalists chosen. But it was this French-couture-influenced design by Sophie Sung of New York that won the judges over with its textured roses and fabulously feathered layered veil. I’m excited to have my heroine wear it in Emily’s Daughter. And by the way, the Harlequin wedding gown will be available for home sewers through The Simplicity Pattern Company Holiday catalogue.

Emily’s Daughter takes place on the Texas Gulf Coast. My husband and I go there at least a couple of times a year. He fishes and I write. We stay in Rockport, Texas. It’s a small commercial and sport fishing town separating Aransas and Copano Bays. We love the friendly people and tranquil landscape and the hometown atmosphere. On one of our visits I was trying to think of new story ideas. We met a mother and daughter who rented rooms to tourists. They looked like sisters. We only talked for a little while, but that conversation stayed with me and I knew what my next book was going to be about—a mother and a daughter. Then I had to come up with a situation that would make the story interesting. Eventually Emily’s Daughter took shape and now you’ll read all about Emily and her long-ago lover and their quest to find their daughter.

Hope you enjoy it.

Linda Warren

P.S. I love hearing from readers. You can reach me at P.O. Box 5182, Bryan, TX 77805 or e-mail me at LW1508@aol.com

Emily’s Daughter
Linda Warren

To Paula Eykelhof, my editor, for her faith in my writing and in me. Thanks, Paula. It means more than you’ll ever know.

A special thanks to the friendly people in Rockport who answered all my questions with such patience and enthusiasm. The characters in Emily’s Daughter are fictional and any errors you find are mine.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

PLEASE. STOP. PLEASE.

The little girl paid no attention to Emily Cooper’s plea. As she ran away, long dark hair blew behind her and a white cotton dress whipped around her legs. Her bare feet made imprints in the sand along the deserted beach.

Emily’s lungs were tight and she could barely breathe. She had to keep going, though. She had to catch her. Her sanity depended on it.

Please stop.

Just when Emily thought her lungs would burst, the little girl stopped and slowly turned toward her.

Yes, yes, yes, now I’ll see her face.

Emily caught her breath and waited, but before the little girl could make the complete turn, Emily woke up. She was bathed in sweat and breathing heavily.

“No, no, no,” she cried. “Not again.” Why couldn’t she see her face? Just once…that was all she wanted.

The darkness didn’t have an answer, and she slipped out of bed and walked into the bathroom. She switched on the light, then filled a glass with water. Taking a couple of gulps, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her dark brown hair hung in disarray around her shoulders and her eyes were groggy.

“You’ll never see her face,” she told the woman in the mirror. “You don’t deserve to. You gave her away the day she was born.”

She took another drink of water and went back to bed. Curling into a fetal position, she cried herself to sleep. Something she hadn’t done in a very long time.

THE NEXT MORNING Emily drove into the doctors’ parking area and glanced at her watch. Ten past nine. Damn. Her first appointment was at nine, which meant she was already late. As a geriatrics specialist, she was very conscious of her patients needs. Some of them were in a fragile mental state and could tolerate no disruption in routine, no unexpected upset.

She grabbed her purse and reading material and got out, slamming the door of her Lexus. She hurried into the building and toward the elevators. She’d worked with a group of doctors at this busy medical center in Houston for the past four years, and she prided herself on her punctuality—not only for herself, but for her patients. Now she’d have to do some juggling and explaining.

She’d overslept because she’d had a restless night. Why did she have the dream? She hadn’t had it in so long. Why now? she wondered again. There was nothing different in her life—hospital rounds, seeing patients, consultations with other doctors. And of course her personal life was nonexistent since she’d broken up with Glen. Was that it? she asked herself as she stepped onto the elevator. Was she subconsciously mourning the fact that she’d never have another child? At thirty-five her conscience should have gotten use to that.

Glen was also a doctor and they’d dated for more than a year. Everything was fine until he started pressuring her to get married. The more he pressured, the more she resisted. Glen was divorced and had two children. At first, she told herself that was the reason—she wasn’t prepared for a ready-made family. But she’d finally had to admit that she didn’t love Glen. If she did, she would have told him her secret, but she’d never even come close to sharing that with him.

She enjoyed being with Glen, but she didn’t have those blinding, passionate feelings she’d had for— No. She refused to think about him. Not today…not ever.

Before she could make it to her office, Harold, the office manager, stopped her. “Dr. Cooper, do you have a minute?”

Emily took a quick breath and turned to face him. She shifted the folders she’d taken home to her other arm. “I really don’t. I’m running late,” she told him.

Harold checked at his watch. “By God, you are late,” his said, his blue eyes enormous behind his thick glasses. “You’re never late. Is something wrong?”

“No.” She looked down at the bundle of case files she held. “Just too much reading and not enough sleep.”

And too many painful memories.

Harold shook his head. “You’re the most dedicated doctor I’ve ever met. Your patients are lucky to have you. Your forgotten ones—that’s what you call them.”

Yes, she did. Children, no matter what age, had a hard time dealing with their parents when illness struck. They had lives and usually the old people were relegated to a nursing home where they were completely forgotten. It was a sad reality, but one she saw all the time.

“When I get old, you’re going to be my doctor,” Harold smiled.

Harold was in his mid forties and she could have told him she had patients his age with Alzheimer’s, but she didn’t want to frighten him.

“Thanks, Harold. Now I’ve got to go,” she said, and started to leave.

“Oh, Dr. Cooper,” Harold called after her. “I just wanted to remind you about the eleven o’clock meeting.”

She stopped. “Meeting?”

“Yeah, about the new computer system we’re installing. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Frowning, she said, “Maybe. I’m not sure—I’ve had so many memos this week. I’m sure Jean or Sharon will take care of whatever needs taking care of.”

“No, no” was Harold’s quick answer. “The staff and nurses have already had their instructions. This is for the doctors. The head of the computer company is flying in as a favor to Dr. Benson. He’s speaking with the doctors personally. It’s an amazing system and it’ll make life so much easier.”

“My schedule’s already backed up and—”

“You have to be there,” he interrupted. “Dr. Benson expects everyone to be there. Half an hour or so—that’s all it’ll take.”

Dr. Benson was head of the group and he’d been talking for a while about a new system. She didn’t have time, but she should probably learn something about it. She hated the business part of her job. She only wanted to treat patients, but she had to admit that improved computer skills would benefit her and them.

“Okay, Harold,” she said in a resigned voice. “I’ll be there.”

She went in through her private entrance and laid her papers on her desk, then shrugged on her white coat and walked into her bathroom to check her appearance. She hadn’t had time to do anything about her hair so she’d pulled it back and clipped it behind her head. It made her look older, more mature, and that was fine. Her face was blotchy, though, from lack of sleep and too many tears. Her patients wouldn’t notice, she was sure.

“Dr. Cooper?” her nurse called from the doorway.

“Yes, Jean,” Emily answered, coming out of the bathroom.

“Thank God.” Jean let out a sigh of relief. “I was getting worried.”

“I’m here now, so let’s get started,” Emily said. “I suppose we have a full morning.”

“Sure do. All the exam rooms are occupied.” She smiled brightly. Jean was a lovely young woman in her late twenties with a calm, sunny disposition that was invaluable to Emily’s patients.

Emily took the folder Jean was handing her. “Do you know anything about this new computer system?”

“Yes, we’ve had classes for two days now.” At Emily’s puzzled expression, she asked, “You didn’t read your memo, did you?”

“No.” Emily glanced at her desk. “I remember Sharon giving it to me, but I must have put it somewhere.”

Jean raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “You’re hopeless when it comes to interoffice communication. The memo was all about the system, the computer company—all sorts of information.”

“Well, I’ll learn about it later. Right now I have patients to see.” She walked to the first exam room. “Remind me that I have a meeting at eleven.”

Emily was busy for the rest of the morning, and even though she tried to make up time, it was a lost cause. Her patients didn’t like to be rushed and they liked lots of attention. When she finished with her last appointment for the morning, she realized that it was almost noon. Oh, no!

“Jean, you were supposed to remind me about the meeting,” she said, hurrying into the corridor. She might be able to catch the end, the question-and-answer part.

“I’m sorry.” Jean’s apologetic voice followed her.

She quickly made her way to the conference room. Opening the door, she stepped inside, but it was too late. The meeting was over. Doctors were standing around talking.

Harold immediately approached her, and he didn’t hide his grin. “Forgot, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Harold, the morning got away from me.”

“Well, at least you can still meet the head of the company. He can answer any questions you might have.”

Questions? How could she have questions about something she’d never even seen?

He took her arm and led her to a group of men. “Mr. Talbert, I’d like you to meet our geriatrics specialist, Dr. Emily Cooper.”

A tall man in a dark business suit turned around—and Emily’s world came to a complete stop. Jackson Scott Talbert. She’d know him anywhere. He hadn’t changed all that much from…God, how long had it been? Eighteen years and five months. Funny how she remembered that exactly. And he looked the same, just older. Same lean build and honed masculine features. Same dark blond hair that curled slightly, although now there were streaks of gray. Same deep green eyes that haunted her dreams. All these things registered as Emily shook his hand.

His clasp was warm and strong, another thing she remembered about him. Her pulse quickened and she had trouble breathing, but she heard herself talking. She had no idea what she was saying. All she knew was that she had to get out of the room and fast.

Within seconds she was in the hallway, almost running to her office. Why hadn’t she read the memo? she chastised herself. Then she would’ve known. She would have been prepared. She rushed into her bathroom, closed the door and leaned heavily against it. Pushing away from the door, she sat on the toilet and buried her face in her hands. Why now? Why did Jackson have to come back into her life now? Especially after last night. The dream was still vivid in her mind. Did her daughter—no, she corrected herself, their daughter—have those deep green eyes? She’d never know and neither would Jackson because she would never tell him about their daughter.

She stood up and glanced in the mirror. She looked like hell. She smoothed a hand over her dark hair and tightened the clip at the back of her head. Opening a drawer, she took out some makeup. She powdered her face and applied lipstick, but it didn’t help; she still looked hollow-eyed and tired. Jackson probably hadn’t even recognized her, she thought grimly. Very little of the happy, laughing teenager he had known was left.

She hadn’t lost her composure like this in years. Seeing him, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, was a shock, and it had blown her professional persona completely to shreds. Jackson must think she was some babbling idiot, and Dr. Benson would demand an explanation of her rude behavior.

What if her colleagues knew the truth? What if they knew her secret? Would they look at her differently? Of course not, she told herself. They were professionals like herself and they would understand. During their years in the medical profession, they’d frequently seen teenage pregnancies. Everyone made mistakes; adoption was a legitimate way out. It gave the mother a second chance and it gave the baby a loving family. But things weren’t always that simple, especially for the birth mother. No matter what age, giving away a child wasn’t easy. She knew that first-hand. After all these years, she still couldn’t justify her actions. Guilt was always with her. Looking back, she knew adoption had been the wrong choice for her. Right for many other girls, but wrong for her. So many times she wished she’d stood up to her mother because now she knew that her parents would have eventually come around. Even though they abhorred the idea of her having a baby out of wedlock, they would’ve supported her. She could have managed to get her education and still keep her baby. If only… Hindsight was twenty-twenty, as people always said, and it didn’t help the way she felt about herself. She had given away the most precious part of herself—her child—and nothing would ever make that right.

She’d blamed her mother for years and their relationship was still strained. But in her heart she knew it was her own fault. She’d gone along with everything her mother had planned for her future—and that future did not include a baby.

It was so long ago, yet it seemed like yesterday. She grew up as an only child in Rockport, Texas. She was pampered and protected, and she was happy. In school, she was at the head of her class. The kids called her brainy, but it didn’t bother her because she recognized that their teasing was affectionate. She was friends with everyone. Then, in her senior year, Emily’s life started to fall apart.

At forty, her mother discovered she was pregnant. It was a shock to everyone—especially Emily. She was so naive that she’d never thought about her parents having sex; she couldn’t even imagine them doing such a thing. They were too old, she kept telling herself. Inevitably, the kids started to tease her about her sexy parents and it became an embarrassment. For seventeen years, she’d been a model daughter, but the new baby changed her whole attitude. She grew rebellious, staying out late and arguing with her parents.

Then Jackson Talbert came into her life. Her father was a fishing guide in Rockport, a small town on the Gulf coast. Jackson and his father had come down for two weeks of fishing after Thanksgiving. Her parents had cottages they rented to tourists during the peak months. During the winter season, if a person wanted a fishing trip and also asked for accommodations, her father always rented the back room. The cottages were closed until March, so it was easier for her mother to have everyone in the house.

When Emily had first seen Jackson, she thought he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen, with his blond hair, green eyes and charming smile. He was tall, with a trim, athletic body. She was sure he’d played football, and later he told her that he had in high school. Football players usually ignored Emily. She wasn’t the cheerleading, pompom-shaking type, so she couldn’t help feeling excited when Jackson took an interest in her. He was older and much more mature than the boys she dated. He seemed a balm to the misery she was experiencing over the new baby.

It started with smiles and innocent flirting, then sitting on the front porch talking while their parents sat in the kitchen planning the next fishing trip. She knew her mother was watching her and that made her angry. She was old enough to do what she wanted. Her parents didn’t consult her about their lives, so she wouldn’t consult them about hers.

Emily groaned now, a sound of pure disgust. It echoed her feelings about the way she was back then—spoiled and selfish. She left the bathroom and sat in her chair, staring into space. She could remember it all so clearly, could remember sneaking off to the beach to be alone with Jackson. It was wintertime, but they hardly noticed as they laughed, held hands and talked about their lives. He’d just graduated from college and was working in his father’s hardware store. He had a degree in computer science and hoped to work in the computer field, but his father wanted him to take over the family business. He was torn between his family and his dream.

She told him about her plans to become a doctor and how it was all she’d ever wanted to be. Before she knew it, she was head over heels in love and Jackson seemed to feel the same way. She told him things she’d never told anyone else, and making love seemed a natural conclusion to all the tumultuous feelings inside her.

Late at night they would grab a blanket and steal away to the beach to make love and to be with each other. Jackson always used a condom. They knew it was important to be careful, but the night before he left, they made love more than once and used the same condom.

She was so young she didn’t even realize how unwise that was. She only wanted to spend every possible moment with him. That night she cried because he was leaving, but he promised he’d call and he’d come back as soon as he could. Famous last words. She sighed in disbelief at her own innocence.

Of course he never called and he never came back. Every day she’d rush home from school and wait for the phone to ring, but she waited in vain. By the end of January her body began showing signs of something she didn’t even want to think about. She bought a pregnancy test kit and her worst fears were confirmed—she was pregnant.

She didn’t know what else to do, so she called the Talbert Hardware Store in Dallas. Jackson would help her, she kept telling herself. The man who answered the phone said Jackson wasn’t in and claimed he had no idea when he’d be back. She called again the next day and the day after that and always got the same answer. Finally the man, irritated with her many phone calls, told her Jackson had left and wasn’t expected to return. She got the feeling he was lying to her and it hit her that a lot of girls probably called the store looking for Jackson. She realized just how stupid she’d been. Jackson wasn’t going to call and he had no intention of coming back. It was all a line—a line guys used on naive girls like her. Facing the truth was hard, and it was the first grown-up thing she’d had to do in her life.

Her mother was having a difficult time with her pregnancy and had to stay in bed. Emily struggled with how to tell her that she was pregnant, too, but her mother noticed the changes in her. She confronted her one day in the bathroom and Emily admitted she was.

Her mother yelled at her and called her stupid and ignorant, but in the end relented and said she’d take care of everything. Emily didn’t have to worry, she said; an unwanted child wasn’t ruining her life. She went on to say that Emily would have to give the child up for adoption. It simply wasn’t possible for her to keep the baby with college and med school ahead of her, and her parents wouldn’t be able to help because they had their own on the way. Emily had made a mistake and now she had to do the right thing.

She was appalled at what her mother was suggesting, but when she appealed to her father he said she couldn’t upset Rose any more than she already had. There was a chance she might lose her baby. So Emily felt she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t cause her parents any more misery. Dealing with that cold, hard truth was the second adult thing she had to do. She thought of running away, but she’d heard horrible stories of what had happened to girls who’d left home on their own. She became like a robot going through the motions of everyday life and letting her mother take over completely.

Her mother forced her to stay in school. With her grades she would graduate as valedictorian of her class and receive scholarships for college—and she did, just as her mother had planned. Even though Rose grew enormous with her own pregnancy, Emily gained very little weight and was able to hide her expanding waistline with loose-fitting clothes. No one guessed she was hiding a secret.

After graduation, her father whisked her off to San Antonio to live with her mother’s aunt and to wait for the arrival of the baby. She wanted to stay home because her mother’s baby was due in a couple of weeks and she wanted to be there for the birth. But Rose said that Emily was getting too big and people would start talking and Emily needed to be in San Antonio where they’d arranged for the adoption to take place.

She hated living with her great-aunt, who quoted scripture to her so she could see the error of her ways. She spent a lot of time in her room, reading and talking to her child. As the baby grew inside her, so did her motherly instincts. Everything was set for the adoption, but somehow she never really believed it. She just kept hoping she could find a way to keep her child, which only made it harder for her in the end.

Her mother delivered a girl the first week in June and her father called to say they weren’t doing well. Emily pleaded to go home, to be with them, but her parents refused. Her resentment over the new baby had vanished in the wake of all the turmoil in her life, and she wanted to see her new sister. Instead she sat by the phone waiting for news. She felt banished by her parents and knew she deserved everything that was happening to her.

Her mother had a heart murmur and the birth had further weakened her heart. The months of June and July were rough for Emily because she didn’t know what was going on at home, but her father said not to worry. Everything would be fine.

Emily’s baby was due at the end of August, but due to stress the baby came early. She lay in a hospital bed in excruciating pain, giving birth—alone. They told her she’d had a girl and Emily begged to hold her, just to see her, but the nurse said it was best if she didn’t. The baby was given to a couple who was waiting to love her and to raise her as their own. The nurse told her she’d done the right thing and in time she would see that, but she never did. Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t thought about her daughter in some way or other.

When her father arrived, he found her in a fetal position, crying. He, too, told her she’d done the right thing. All she could think about was going home—to forget and to be with her family. Again her father refused, saying her mother wasn’t well and she had her hands full caring for the new baby. Emily said she could help, but her father said she needed to regain her strength and make plans for college. That was what her mother wanted for her. She felt as if her parents had washed their hands of her and she cried and cried…for herself…for her baby…for so many things.

In September, her father took her to the University of Texas, where she was enrolled. Again there was no talk of going home. Her mother had sent her some pictures of her new sister and she clung to those like a lifeline. During Thanksgiving break, she was finally able to go home and see her sister for the first time. She was tiny and precious and Emily spent most of the week just holding her, talking to her, trying not to think about her own baby. Those memories came at night when sleep would elude her and she’d ache for a glimpse of her daughter’s face. Would she look anything like her? Or would she favor Jackson? On and on it went over the years and still she had no answers. But she prayed her daughter was healthy and happy and with people who loved her.

She hadn’t known, when she left to have her child, that she’d never be home for any length of time again. She only went home to see her sister, and she was grateful they had a good relationship. Her mother said she spoiled Rebecca and that was another bone of contention between them, but if she could afford to give Rebecca the things she wanted, then she intended to. The arguments with her mother that followed were never pleasant.

Emily slid lower in her chair, sighing deeply. Memories seemed to be weighing her down, smothering her. After all this time, she should be past the pain, but she wasn’t—that was why seeing Jackson so unexpectedly had thrown her. God, she’d made a fool of herself. Now what? Forget about him, she told herself. She was good at forgetting Jackson. She’d spent years doing it.

IT TOOK JACKSON TALBERT about ten seconds to recover, then he made an excuse about getting something from his briefcase and turned away. Emily Ann Cooper. He couldn’t believe it. She was half woman, half child when he’d known her, but today he could see she was all woman and there was not a glimmer of recognition on her pretty face. Could she have forgotten him? Or did she just prefer not to acknowledge him?

He didn’t like either of those possibilities. He had felt they’d shared something out of the ordinary once and he’d always regretted not going back to the coast to see her, but his world had been turned upside down with an aspect of life he was ill-equipped to deal with. And later his life had gone in so many different directions that Emily Cooper became merely a pleasant memory.

She looked great, he thought, and she’d become a doctor just as she’d wished. He was glad for her and he wondered if she was married. Her name was still Cooper, but that didn’t mean anything. It might just be her professional name. Anyone as intelligent and beautiful as Emily had to have someone in her life.

He kept thinking of the young Emily with her warm, bubbly laugh and seductive dark eyes. She’d been a breath of fresh air after the experienced college girls he had dated. He grew warm just remembering their nights on the beach that long-ago winter….

He closed his briefcase and tried to recall what she’d said. Something about busy, patients, had to go. He didn’t catch much else because he was in a state of shock and too preoccupied with staring into her eyes, which were somber and professional. There was no laughter or mischief in their depths. They were serious—maybe a little too serious.

What did he expect? he asked himself. A giggling teenager? He was sure he had changed, too. There was gray in his hair, lines around his eyes and a whole lot of living on his face. But still, she should’ve recognized him. Why hadn’t she said something or, for that matter, why hadn’t he? Well, he planned to rectify that. She worked here, so it should be no problem finding her. And this time they would talk.

THE RINGING OF THE TELEPHONE startled Emily back to reality. It was her private line, so it had to be family.

She picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Em, she’s driving me crazy!” The frantic words of her sister resounded in her ear.

Emily took a deep breath, not certain she was in any shape to handle another argument between Becca and their mother. “What is it, Becca? What’s Mother done now?”

“She said I have to be home by ten o’clock from the prom and I have to wear one of my old dresses. Tommy and I had been nominated for prom king and queen, and I have to have something nice and I’m not leaving at ten o’clock. Everyone’ll laugh at me. I can’t take it anymore! If you don’t come home, I’ll run away.”

Emily took another breath. “I told you I’d buy you a dress for the prom, and I’ll talk to Mom about the ten o’clock business.”

“Mom said you can’t buy me anything else.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“In person, okay? She always lightens up when you’re here.”

“I can’t. I’m too busy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the message. You’re always too busy for your own family.”

“Becca, that’s not fair.”

“You haven’t been home for ages. Admit it, you can’t get along with her any better than I can, but I’m stuck here.”

“It’s not that bad, and you know it. You can’t get your way so you’re angry right now, but I’ll talk to Mom and we’ll work this out.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Please come home. Just for a little while,” her sister begged.

Emily closed her eyes, Becca’s plea was getting to her. She didn’t go home much; it was too stressful. She and her mother couldn’t get through a visit without Rose making some reference to the past. Becca had never been told about any of it, so she didn’t understand. But Emily knew that her mother was making Becca pay for Emily’s mistake. Becca didn’t deserve that.

“Okay, I will, and we’ll go buy you a dress for the prom.” Emily heard herself giving in.

“Great, Em! I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“Just let me handle Mom.”

“Don’t worry.” Becca laughed, then more solemnly she added, “She hasn’t been feeling well lately. Maybe that’s why she’s so grouchy. Dad even leased the cottages to the Hudsons next door for the season because Mom can’t take care of them anymore.”

Emily straightened. “What’s wrong?” she asked, knowing that if her mother had given up the cottages, it had something to do with her health.

“She gets out of breath so easily, and last night she had trouble breathing. Dad was up with her most of the night.”

“Did she have her oxygen?”

“Of course. She says it was my fault because I upset her so much.”

“It’s not your fault,” Emily told her. “Mom had a heart condition long before you were born and any upsets she brings on herself.”

There was a long pause, then Becca asked, “She’s not going to die, is she?”

“Don’t say things like that. As soon as I can clear my schedule, I’ll come and check Mom over.”

“Thanks, Em. I can always count on you. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she replied, but before she could say anything else the phone went dead.

Emily hung up and ran both hands through her hair, loosening the clasp. God, she didn’t need this today. The past seemed to be looming over her and she couldn’t escape it. First, the dream, then Jackson, and now the old problem with her mother. What else could happen?

CHAPTER TWO

THE AFTERNOON WAS JUST as rushed as the morning, and at six o’clock Emily said goodbye to her last patient and headed into her office. Jean followed.

“That’s it, thank God,” she sighed. “I’ll file the charts and finish up for the day.”

“Okay,” Emily said absently, leafing through some notes on her desk.

Jean made to leave, then turned back. “Did you meet the computer guy?”

Emily blinked. “What?”

“The computer guy,” Jean repeated. “All the women are talking about how fine-looking he is.”

Emily glanced back at her notes, trying to remain detached, trying not to react. “I didn’t notice.”

“What?” Jean shrieked. “You’re hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. If it’s not an old man, you’re not interested.” Realizing how the words sounded, Jean quickly back-pedaled. “That came out wrong. I meant—”

Emily stopped her. “Don’t worry about it. I know what you meant.”

“Thank God.” Jean rolled her eyes. “I’d better go before I get my foot completely stuck in my mouth.” At the door, she couldn’t resist adding, “I just think you need to get out more, have some fun.”

“I appreciate your concern, but most likely the computer guy’s married.”

“Oh, no.” She walked back. “He’s divorced.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Really? How would you know that?”

Emily was sure Jackson was married and had a family by now. He probably had another daughter…a daughter who—

“I talked to Dr. Benson’s secretary who talked to Dr. Benson’s nurse, who had all the juicy details.”

“The grapevine,” Emily groaned.

“Yeah, it comes in handy sometimes.”

“And sometimes it’s totally inaccurate,” Emily pointed out.

There was a pause, then Jean asked, “Are you interested in him?”

“Heavens, no,” Emily was quick to deny. “I’m just curious.”

“That’s how it starts,” Jean said with a laugh.

Emily ignored that remark. “I’m not on call this weekend, am I?”

“No,” Jean answered. “Why?”

“I’m thinking about visiting my family.”

“Okay.” Jean nodded, and left, returning to the filing area.

Emily went back to her notes, blocking out Jackson Talbert’s face, blocking out the past and everything else—everything but her work. She had to get over to the hospital, to check on Mrs. Williams. She flexed her shoulders and stood up. It had been a long, exhausting day, not to mention humiliating, and now she needed a hot bath and some sleep. She removed her white coat and hung it on a peg.

She massaged the back of her neck, trying to ease the ache starting at the base of her skull.

“Had a hard day?” a familiar voice asked.

She swung around, her eyes huge in her pale face. “Jackson,” she whispered.

He was leaning against the doorframe, hands shoved in the pockets of his gray slacks. He had lost his tie and several buttons on his lighter gray shirt were open, revealing the beginning of dark blond chest hair. Her stomach tightened uncontrollably as she relived the sensation of running her fingers through…

“You remember my name,” he said, and pushed away from the door.

She stared at his face—the lean lines, defined cheekbones, straight nose and green, green eyes. Everything was the same…except for the tiny lines around his eyes and mouth and the gray in his blond hair. Jean was right; he was fine-looking, even more so than she’d recalled. And he was now a man instead of the boy she had given herself to.

Seeing that he was waiting for an answer, she collected herself. “Of course I remember you.”

I’ll never forget you.

“Earlier you acted as if we’d never met, never…”

He let the unfinished sentence hang between them, and to stop the nervousness in her stomach she slowly took the stethoscope from around her neck and placed it on her desk. She chose her next words carefully. “I didn’t think my colleagues would be interested in my girlish infatuation.”

“Infatuation?” He raised a dark blond eyebrow. “Wasn’t it more than that?”

To me, it was.

But the words that came out of her mouth were “No, I don’t think so. You left and never came back and I got on with my life.” She hated that she couldn’t disguise the bitterness in her voice.

He knew she was lying and trying to hide it. He remembered that about her. She had a hard time lying, especially to her mother. He used to tease her about it. But through the nervousness, he could hear the hurt in her voice. He should’ve gone back. He’d never wanted to hurt her, but he’d gotten so caught up in his own turmoil that he could only think about himself. Looking at her, he regretted that.

He couldn’t help asking, “Did you wait for me?”

Every minute, every hour of every day.

“Of course not,” she denied emphatically.

She was lying again. He could tell by the way she ran her hand along the edge of the desk. He was making her nervous. Why? He just wanted to talk.

The terse chitchat was disconcerting her. She felt as if her emotions were in a blender and someone had pushed the high button and any minute she was going to explode all over the room.

“I’ve got to go,” she said abruptly, reaching for her purse. “I’m expected at the hospital.”

Jackson was taken aback by her sudden departure and he was thinking of ways to keep her talking a little longer. He saw a picture on her desk. He walked over and picked it up. It was a family portrait of her parents, herself and another young woman. Her mother had been pregnant all those years ago, and this had to be the baby. Emily had so many problems with her mother’s pregnancy, but judging by their smiling faces everything had obviously worked out.

“This must be your sister,” he said.

“Yes, that’s Rebecca. We call her Becca,” she replied, and swung the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

Why didn’t he leave? She didn’t want to talk to him.

“She looks like you when you were seventeen.”

“Yes, everyone says that,” she found herself saying. “But her hair is lighter and our personalities are completely different. Becca’s very outspoken and direct. She’s always talking and laughing and getting involved in things that my parents disapprove of. She’s constantly arguing with my mother and—”

She stopped, unable to believe she was telling him all this. For a moment, it seemed like old times when she used to pour her heart out to him.

“Sounds as if she’s a lot like you,” he said, and carefully placed the picture back on her desk.

“In ways I guess we are,” she admitted, knowing that Becca was stronger than she ever hoped to be. Her mother would never be able to force Becca to do anything against her will. Becca was strong-willed and stubborn, and she had her own views on everything. Emily had never been that opinionated or unyielding. She was weak…weak and…

Don’t think about the baby. Don’t think about her now.

“I’ve got to run,” she said in a detached voice. “Is there something you wanted to see me about?”

Again he was thrown by her coolness. She clearly had no interest in talking to him. Had his callous behavior almost two decades ago destroyed any chance of their having a normal conversation?

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I wanted to talk about old times. Maybe take you to dinner.”

A paralyzing fear gripped her, and she fought to maintain her composure, her control. Jackson Talbert wasn’t getting to her again. Talk? Dinner? Absolutely not! She had to escape from him as quickly as possible.

“I’m sorry, I’m too busy, but it was nice seeing you again,” she lied, moving resolutely toward the door.

“Emily?”

Against her will, she halted. It was the way he said her name—soft and persuasive with a deep, husky nuance. It was the same way he always used to say it on the beach, before his lips claimed hers…before he’d kiss her into oblivion…kiss her into forgetting everything but him. How could a voice, a sound, obliterate years of pain, years of hating Jackson Talbert? She didn’t know, but just like that, she felt herself being pulled toward him.

“Aren’t you curious about why I never came back?”

Those words held her spellbound and suddenly she desperately wanted an answer. She turned slowly around.

“Yes, I am,” she said, and she wondered if that low, aching voice was hers.

He smiled and her stomach tied into a painful knot of pure need—something she’d never experienced with any other man. What was she doing? she asked herself. Walk out that door and don’t look back.

Go. Go. Go.

But her feet didn’t move.

Something stronger than herself kept her rooted to the spot. All these years she’d believed that he’d simply used her for a good time, a vacation fling—but maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d had a reason for not returning to her, for not calling. She needed to find out—for her own sanity. She needed to justify what had happened back then. If she could do that, maybe the dreams would stop…. Maybe she could let the memory of her daughter go.

“Good. There’s this little Italian restaurant I go to when I’m in town,” he was saying. “It’s not far from the medical center.” He checked his watch. “We could be there in less than twenty minutes.”

She gripped her purse strap, knowing she was about to take a step that could change so many things. Was she ready? She swallowed. “I really have to go to the hospital first,” she told him. “I can meet you there in two hours.” To her surprise, she made the decision quickly and easily.

“Two hours?” He frowned. “That long?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t rush my patients. I try to be attentive to their needs.”

“The dedicated doctor.” He smiled again.

She didn’t respond.

He reached for a pen and pad from her desk. He scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “That’s the address and my cell phone. Just in case you get tied up.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you at the restaurant,” he said, and walked through the door.

She stared at the paper and began to question her decision. She didn’t need two hours at the hospital. Seeing Mrs. Williams wouldn’t take that long. She wanted to go home and shower and change into something more feminine, more… She was having dinner with Jackson Talbert, Emily reminded herself with a sense of panic. The father of her child. She couldn’t help wondering how he’d say her name if she told him that. She shuddered. It was her secret, and after tonight she’d never see Jackson again.

She’d only accepted his invitation because she had to hear his version of the past, his explanation for disappearing from her life. Then she could put Jackson out of her heart forever. As long as she remembered that, she’d be fine.

SHE SPENT LONGER at the hospital than she’d planned, and barely had enough time to shower and change. She went through her closet repeatedly before she decided what to wear. For someone who was seeing Jackson only once and only to hear about the past, she was a little too excited, too eager. She tried to curb those feelings, without success. She felt seventeen again and she knew that tonight was a bad decision, but it was too late to do anything about it. Or was it? She could just not show up and let him get a taste of what it was like to wait for someone who was never coming. Oh, yeah, that would be sweet revenge. She chewed on her lip and had to admit she wasn’t out for revenge. She’d gotten beyond that, thank God. Now she just needed answers…about the past.

She gazed at herself in the mirror. She had on a pale pink vest with turned-up collar and a long maroon skirt that whispered around her ankles. Her dark hair hung loose to her shoulders and her makeup was simple—some mascara and liner, a slick of lip gloss. With her olive complexion she didn’t wear much, but in the evenings a little helped. At least it eased the tiredness in her eyes.

Noticing the clock, she realized she had to hurry. She slipped on a pair of sling-back heels and headed for the door. Traffic was a nightmare, as always, but she made it on time. Jackson was already there and she was shown to his table. The restaurant, which was unfamiliar to her, was small, but had a warm, pleasant atmosphere with its linen tablecloths, candlelight and soft music. Wine bottles and glasses seemed to be everywhere, and green plants adorned the nooks and crannies.

Jackson stood as she reached the table. She saw that he too, had changed. He now had on a dark blue suit and a crisp white shirt that emphasized his lean good looks.

He smiled, taking in her new appearance. For a moment he was speechless. He had known the young, enticing Emily, and today he’d met the professional Emily, but now he was staring at Emily, the woman. Wow was all he could think. She was dressed to perfection; even her makeup was flawless. He remembered she’d rarely worn it back then. With her coloring she didn’t need adornment, but tonight it was perfect, setting off her beautiful face and dark eyes.

Those glorious eyes—he never tired of gazing into them. They used to be tantalizing and bright, but now they held shadows, shadows he knew nothing about. Maybe her life hadn’t been all that rosy. His certainly hadn’t. A lot of things had happened in the intervening years…. But none of them would be discussed tonight. They—

He pulled himself up short. He was reacting as if he and Emily had a future. After tonight they’d probably never see each other again. Somehow he didn’t feel good about that.

He wanted to tell her why he hadn’t come back and she wanted to listen. He was aware that she had ambivalent feelings about him and, if nothing else, he had to set the record straight. She still might not understand, but at least she’d know the truth.

“I ordered wine,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Sure,” she answered as the waiter handed her a menu.

She inhaled deeply, trying to gather enough strength to get through this.

Jackson approved the wine, and the waiter poured it into glasses that sparkled in the candlelight. “Are you ready to order, Mr. Talbert?”

Jackson put down his menu. “House salad and linguine for me, Carlo, as always, but the lady might need a moment.”

“No, no,” she said promptly. “I’ll have the green salad—vinaigrette on the side. Roasted garlic chicken breast with pasta—no sauce.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter responded, then took their menus and walked away.

Jackson stared at her. “You eat healthy, don’t you?”

She folded her hands in her lap. “I try.”

He leaned back in his chair. “A doctor, Emily. You made that dream come true. I bet your parents are proud.”

She took a sip of wine. “Yes, my mother loves telling people about her daughter, the doctor.”

“Having met your mother, I can imagine that.”

She tilted the glass to her lips once again. She’d talked endlessly about her mother to Jackson. She’d confided her innermost secrets, her struggle with her mother’s pregnancy, her strict morals and unreasonable discipline. Jackson knew all about her problems with Rose, but he didn’t know the worst part.

“Evidently you didn’t go into your father’s hardware business,” she said, deftly changing the subject.

“No,” he murmured, “I didn’t. That’s what I—”

Before he could tell her anything, their salads arrived and conversation was interrupted.

Sprinkling vinaigrette over hers, Emily asked, “Do you come to Houston often?”

“Maybe once a month. We have a lot of customers here. Our new program cuts down on work, and on the expenditure of time and money. It’s been very successful and it keeps me traveling.”

“Everyone at the office is raving about the program you installed for us.”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You haven’t tried it?”

She glanced up. “No, but I will. I just hate taking time away from my patients to learn technical things.”

He leaned toward her, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It’ll make your life so much easier. Simply by hitting a key, you can pull up a patient’s history, his drug chart, his last visit, your recommendations and diagnoses. Then you speak into a headphone to update any chart. The computer will recognize your voice. This will save tremendously on paperwork. The hardest part is getting all the information into the computer and keeping it current, but I’m sure you have people to do that.”

She was mesmerized by the glow in his eyes, which clearly revealed how much he loved his work.

The waiter removed their salads and their food was brought out.

They ate in silence for a while, then Jackson asked, “How’s your chicken?”

“Fine,” she replied, swallowing a bite. The food was delicious and she was hungry. Having skipped lunch, she was very conscious of that.

“Next time you should try the linguine. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten,” he said.

Next time. There would be no next time. At least not with Jackson.

He asked if she wanted dessert and she refused, but asked for another glass of wine. She felt she needed it.

Jackson twisted his wineglass, watching her, and his thoughts drifted. He was seeing Emily on the beach with nothing but the moonlight on her soft, smooth skin. So many things about her surfaced—things he’d thought he’d forgotten. Her uninhibited smile, her sharp intelligence and the incredible beauty she was so unaware of.

His gaze heated her senses and she rushed into speech. “You were going to tell me why you didn’t come back.”

Engrossed in his memories, he was startled for a second. He took a deep breath and tried to find the words. “When I left Rockport that winter, I was unsure about my life,” he began slowly. “My parents were pressuring me to come into the hardware business, while I wanted to go out on my own and start a computer company. I had a friend who was interested in the same thing.”

“You told me that years ago,” she reminded him.

His eyes caught hers. “Yes, I told you a lot of things about myself.”

She looked away and carefully placed her napkin on the table. “We both did that.”

“Two kids eager to become adults,” he sighed.

“You were an adult,” she said. “I was the kid.”

“I guess you were,” he admitted, feeling guilty because he’d taken advantage of her young spirit. “But you were so delightful, so—”

She cut in. “Why didn’t you go into your father’s hardware business?”

He studied her for a moment, then answered, “The decision was made for me.”

Her eyes didn’t waver. “By whom?”

“My parents.”

She lifted a dark eyebrow.

This was the hard part. “My father took me on that fishing trip as a way to prepare me for what was to come,” he said. “The day after we got back to Dallas, my parents said they wanted to talk to me. I assumed it was about the business, but…” He stopped and swallowed before continuing, “My mother told me she was dying of pancreatic cancer. My father was supposed to tell me on the trip, but he couldn’t. They gave her three months to live. I couldn’t believe it. I was stunned—in shock. My mom was always so active, so full of energy. It wasn’t fair, and I hit back at everything and everyone in sight. But not at her. I didn’t want her to see my pain. I intended to be there for her. She was very brave right up until the end. She died January 30.”

“I’m so sorry,” she immediately offered, feeling the pain that was obviously still with him. Then something clicked in her mind. January 30? That was the day she’d found out she was pregnant. She remembered it vividly. She’d borrowed her mother’s car and driven into Corpus Christi to buy a pregnancy test. She went to Corpus Christi because she didn’t want anyone she knew to see her buying such a personal item. It would’ve been all over Rockport in minutes. She hurried home to take the test. Even though she’d suspected what the result would be, she was in shock. At the same time, Jackson was dealing with another kind of trauma.

“After that, I was restless. I couldn’t concentrate on anything,” Jackson was saying. “My aunt was spending a lot of time with my father, and I told him I had to go. There were too many reminders in the house, at the store. He said he understood, and I hit the road trying to outrun the pain.”

That was why he wasn’t at the hardware store when she’d called. He was trying to deal with his mother’s death. It wasn’t what she’d believed at all.

Why didn’t you come to Rockport?

As if reading her mind, he went on. “I thought about coming to Rockport, but I knew your mother would eat me alive. She didn’t like me much.” He paused for a second. “That wasn’t the real reason, though. I was a mess. All I could think about was my life, my grief, and I couldn’t drag you down with me. You were young, finishing high school, getting ready for college. You didn’t need an albatross around your neck.”

Oh, God, if he only knew.

“I traveled around for a while, then headed to San Antonio to see my friend.” His words froze her thoughts.

Had he been in San Antonio when their daughter was born? Had he been there when she’d given their daughter away?

She licked dry lips. “When did you go to San Antonio?” she asked in a tight voice.

He frowned. “I went that spring and I stayed for about a year and a half and— Emily, are you all right? You look pale.”

“I…ah…” She couldn’t answer as she tried to grapple with this twist of fate. He’d been there when their daughter was born. So close, yet so out of reach. “It’s just hot in here,” she lied. It was the only excuse she could invent for her strange behavior.

“Would you like some water?”

“Please.”

He called the waiter and a glass of ice water was placed in front of her. She held it with both hands, letting the coolness soothe her shaky nerves.

“Better?” he asked as she took several swallows.

“Yes, thanks,” she said. “You were saying?”

“Oh.” He tried to remember what he was talking about. “My friend, Clay, and I started the computer company in San Antonio. It was slow that first year, then it took off like a rocket. Later, we moved the business to Dallas and it’s still doing very well, although Clay’s not with me anymore. He fell in love with a school teacher from Alaska, sold his share to his brother and moved up there.”

After a strained silence, he said, “I promised to call and come back, but do you understand why I didn’t?”

No, I never will, she immediately thought. But he’d had his reasons. He’d loved his mother and he’d coped with her death in the only way he could. He didn’t know about Emily and the baby. He’d no cause to think that she might be pregnant; after all, they’d been so careful. Sadly, his love for her hadn’t been enough to bring him back, and she was the one who’d had to suffer.

Her fingers played with the linen napkin. “I used to rush home from school to wait for your phone call,” she admitted in a near whisper.

“Emily, I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” he said, his voice deep with emotion. “That first night I was home, I couldn’t sleep because I kept remembering our nights on the beach. Later, after the pain and fog had cleared from my mind, I wondered if you were seeing someone else. If you’d forgotten me.”

No, Jackson, I never forgot you. You left a reminder that stayed with me and will stay with me forever.

Her eyes challenged his. “But you forgot me rather easily, didn’t you?”

He looked embarrassed, and she was glad he wasn’t going to lie about it. “Yes, I guess I did. With my mom’s illness and the computer company, I didn’t have time for much else. I’m not proud of that. We made a lot of promises under the stars and I should’ve called and let you know what was happening. I regret my lack of concern for your feelings, but I couldn’t talk about my mom’s death to anyone—not for a long while.” He stopped for a second. “I’m sorry sounds too contrived for my actions, and my only excuse is that I was totally unprepared to deal with the death of someone I loved.” He stopped again. “When I saw you today, I realized I hadn’t forgotten a thing about you. I remember all the little details and—”

She broke in. “Please, Jackson, let’s not dredge it all up.”

He swallowed some wine, his eyes never leaving her face. “Okay, but I want you to know that time meant a lot to me.”

But not enough to bring you back.

She clasped her hands in her lap, thinking maybe that was all she needed to hear…now. Back then, she’d needed a whole lot more. But it really didn’t matter any longer. “What happened to your father?” she asked, trying to get out of dangerous waters.

Her shift in conversation didn’t escape him, but he let it go. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk about the past. “My father sold the business and retired. He bought a cabin on a lake and spends his days fishing and playing dominoes with his buddies. He still misses my mom, but he’s a survivor.”

“He never remarried?”

“Nope, he’s more interested in catching that big fish than catching a woman.”

“I’m sorry about your mother,” she said again.

“Me, too, Emily,” he responded readily. “And I’m sorry I let my grief overshadow everything in my life—even my word to you.”

She bit her lip; they were moving onto dangerous ground again. “Did you get married?” she asked abruptly, then wished she could take the words back.

“Yeah, a few years later I decided to settle down. My wife, Janine, was a…”

His voice trailed off as he saw the look on her face, and he quickly added, “I’m not married anymore. I’m divorced.”

“Oh,” she murmured weakly. It wasn’t the fact that he’d been married that startled her. She already knew that. But when he’d said my wife, an odd feeling came over her. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized she’d always seen herself in that position. Which was crazy, completely crazy.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be,” he told her. “It was one of those marriages that should never have happened, and it didn’t take us long to figure out we were wrong for each other. I wanted kids and a family. She didn’t.”

“Why not?” slipped out before she could stop it.

“She’s a lawyer and works for a big law firm in Dallas. Her total focus was on advancing her career. I understood that. My career was important, too, and we both put in staggering hours. After about two years, I asked her to take some time off and have a baby. She refused, saying she wasn’t ready.” He paused for a sip of wine. “She has two sisters who’d given up careers to raise their children. She said she wasn’t doing that. After four years, I realized she wasn’t going to change her mind, and by that time we’d grown so far apart that the marriage was basically nonexistent. We both wanted different things from life and we mutually decided to call it quits.”

“You wanted children?” she asked quietly.

“Sure” was his quick response. “I was an only child and I planned to have at least two kids, the big house, a dog—the whole nine yards. I just forgot to mention those things to Janine.”

He wanted kids. She didn’t know why she was having a hard time grasping that. Maybe her guilt was spiraling out of control.

“I guess I was looking for what my parents had—a home filled with love and laughter.” He drank more wine. “But I don’t see that in my future now. I’ll soon be forty and I’ve resigned myself to being a fatherless bachelor.”

You’re not. You have a daughter.

The words burned in her throat and she ached to tell him. But what good would it do? Their daughter would be eighteen in August—a grown woman with a life of her own, which didn’t include them.

He interrupted her disturbing thoughts. “How come you never married, Emily?”

“How do you know I’m not?”

He grinned. “I asked someone.”

So did I. So did I.

“Well?” he persisted.

She shrugged. “I was busy with medical school, then establishing a practice. I guess I never had time to develop a lasting relationship.”

“But there were men?” He couldn’t prevent the question.

Her eyes met his. “Yes, but no one ever overshadowed my career.”

Or you.

He raised an eyebrow. “So that’s what a man has to compete with?”

Emily suddenly noticed that the restaurant was almost empty and it was getting late. She could feel herself yearning to tell him about their daughter—but she couldn’t. She had to get away from him. “I really have to go. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

Jackson reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet; he laid a credit card on the table. The waiter immediately took it and disappeared. Within minutes he was back, and Jackson and Emily got to their feet. They left the restaurant in silence, stepping out into a pleasant May evening. The night sky was clear and bright, and the traffic made a loud humming sound, but Emily was hardly aware of her surroundings as she walked to her car. Jackson followed.

She opened her car door and turned to face him. She didn’t know what to say. So many conflicting feelings surged through her.

“I enjoyed seeing you again,” he said.

“Me, too,” she replied, and meant it. Certain questions had been answered, certain issues resolved—and yet she recognized that the past would always be with her. There would be no absolution. After hearing Jackson talk about kids, that was clearer than ever.

“I’d like to see you again.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Why not?”

“Because we can’t recapture our youth…”

Her words trailed away as he stepped close to her—so close she could smell his aftershave and feel the heat from his body. He cupped her face in his hands, and her heart pounded in her chest in anticipation of what she knew was coming.

His lips gently touched hers, then covered them with a fierce possessiveness she remembered despite all the years that had passed. He didn’t touch her anywhere else. He didn’t need to. Her lips moved under his and she kissed him back. She couldn’t help it.

“I don’t think we have to recapture anything,” he whispered against her lips. “It’s there. It’s always been there. Ever since I first saw you in your mother’s kitchen.”

He was right. The feelings were still alive. Oh, God, they were. Her body was on fire and she hadn’t felt this way since…since those winter nights on the beach. But she couldn’t give in to this. She wouldn’t.

“Jackson—”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“No, I—”

“Yes,” he asserted, and she got into the car without another word. Just before he slammed her door, he said, “Tomorrow, Emily.”

EMILY DIDN’T REMEMBER much of the drive home. She kept hearing Jackson’s words. “Tomorrow, Emily.” Over and over they echoed through her head, her heart, and she realized she’d crossed a dangerous line between the past and the future.

Now she was older and much wiser, and the words shouldn’t affect her so intensely, but they did. Had she learned nothing? Yes, Jackson’s explanation for not coming back was a good one, but still… If he’d loved her as much as she’d loved him, nothing would have kept him away. Instead he’d managed to resume his life without her and she had dealt with hers as best she could.

She’d made bad decisions, and nothing she did now would change that. She sensed that seeing Jackson again was another bad choice. It was probably best to leave the past where it was—in the past. She couldn’t handle anything else.

As she climbed into bed, she decided there would be no tomorrow for her and Jackson. She’d call him and make an excuse. Having settled that, she felt better. Surprisingly she fell asleep easily.

Except that she had a different dream.

And Jackson was in it.

She didn’t wake up crying or trembling. She was actually smiling, and that shook her. She tried to understand this new dream. She and Jackson were on the beach and they were holding a little girl. Their daughter. Emily kept saying “I’m so glad I told you,” and he kept saying “Thank you.”

She pulled her knees up to her chin, trying to still the joy inside her. She didn’t have to look far to grasp the meaning of her dream. She wanted to tell Jackson about their daughter.

She closed her eyes, trying to collect her thoughts. The dream was also about guilt—her guilt. It was consuming her, and it had become more voracious since yesterday. Since his return. Her subconscious had clarified what she had to do and why. She would tell him. He deserved that much; he believed their time together was innocent and beautiful, but it was marred with so many ugly things.

She would tell Jackson about their baby…and the adoption. She wasn’t sure what his reaction would be, but he had a right to know. Beyond that she didn’t want to think. But she had to.

Whatever the consequences, she’d pursue this unaccustomed urge, this need to tell him the truth. Maybe it was the love in his voice when he talked about having kids. Maybe that had triggered her dream. Or it could just be plain old selfishness. She wanted to tell him because she had a desire to share her precious baby with someone. She’d never done that. She’d never spoken of her daughter or the adoption and the grief she’d experienced, and she desperately needed to. She wanted to talk about all of this with her baby’s father…Jackson.

She curled up in bed. If she told him, there would be disbelief in his eyes, along with hatred and anger and disgust. She would see herself through his eyes. Could she endure that?

Grabbing a pillow, she held it tight. “Yes,” she said into the darkness. Right or wrong, she would tell Jackson about their daughter.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN JACKSON REACHED the hotel, the first thing he did was call his friend and partner, Colton Prescott.

“Hey, Jackson, I’m glad you’re home,” Colton said before Jackson could speak. “I’m dealing with the Conley contract, but they want to talk to you.”

“I’m not home. I’m still in Houston.”

There was a pause, then, “Problems with the system?”

“No, everything’s running fine.”

“Then why aren’t you back?”

“Because I’ve met someone and I’m staying for a few more days.”

This time there was a very long pause. “Met someone? You mean a woman?”

Jackson laughed at Colton’s disbelieving tone. After his divorce, he’d tried to date, but it became more trouble than it was worth. Every woman he got involved with wanted to rush him to the altar, and he wasn’t ready to tackle marriage again. These days he spent time with his dad and at the company. When he went out, it was strictly for pleasure and he made that clear up front.

“Yeah, a real live woman.”

“Damn, those women in Houston must be a helluva lot better-looking than the ones in Dallas.”

Jackson laughed again. “It doesn’t have anything to do with looks. She’s someone I knew a long time ago.”

“O-o-oh.”

From that drawn-out exclamation, Jackson knew what Colton was thinking. “It wasn’t some one-night stand. This woman means a lot to me.” As he said the words, he realized that he cared a lot about Emily—probably always had.

“Really. Well, that sounds interesting.”

“I’ll let you know when I plan to return.”

“Wait a minute.” Colton stopped him before he could hang up. “What am I supposed to do about Bill Conley?”

“Use some of that Prescott charm on him.”

“But he wants the system in by the first of the month. That’s pushing it and I refuse to do that. Fast work creates glitches that take much more time to fix.”

“I’ll talk to Bill in the morning. Will that help?”

“It sure will. He treats me like a twelve-year-old.”

Jackson smiled. At thirty-two, Colton had a youthful exuberance, but there wasn’t a thing he didn’t know about computers. Once their customers recognized that, everything went smoothly. “See you next week,” he said, ending the conversation.

“Oh, Jackson, your dad called.”

A knot formed in his stomach. “Did he say if something was wrong?”

“No, he just wanted to talk to you.”

“I see,” Jackson said slowly. He’d spoken with his dad last night and everything was fine. So why had he called again? Eager to get off the phone, he added, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

As soon as he’d hung up, he dialed his father’s number. Six rings. Seven… Finally the phone was picked up. “Hello,” a sleepy voice said.

“Dad, it’s Jackson.”

“Jack, my boy, why are you calling so late? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’m fine, but Colton said you called the office. Thought it might be something important.”

“No, not like you mean. I was just mad and upset, and I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why were you upset?”

“Because of that damn aunt of yours. You’ll never believe what she did. She came to visit and brought a woman friend with her. A friend she assumed I’d be interested in. How many times have I told her to stop matchmaking? But does she listen? No. She doesn’t hear a word I say. She wanted me to go dancing with them. Can you imagine? Dancing! I told her in no uncertain terms what she could do with that idea and she got angry. I figured she’d be calling you and complaining about her mean old brother.”

Jackson took a patient breath. It was the same ongoing argument between his father and aunt. Aunt Maude was lively and sociable, and his dad was happy being by himself, fishing or doing whatever he pleased. Aunt Maude didn’t understand his attitude and Jackson had a hard time with it at first. But he’d finally realized his father had spent years in the work force and after his mom’s death, just wanted some peace and quiet.

“She worries about you,” Jackson told him.

“Well, if she worries so damn much, she can come over here and cook me a meal every once in a while.”

“As a peace offering, why don’t you take her out to dinner? Someplace nice.”

“You know Maudie. She’ll want to go someplace where there’s drinking and dancing.”

“Dad,” Jackson sighed. “Aunt Maude’s always been there for you and it won’t hurt to humor her.”

A pause followed. “All right, all right,” he said irritably. I’ll take her out to eat. But if she brings another floozy over here, I’ll—”

Jackson cut in. “Just tell her how you feel—politely.”

“I do, but I think she has a hearing problem” was the wry answer. “Why didn’t you come home today?”

Jackson didn’t miss the quick change of subject, but he was glad. He’d rather not talk about Aunt Maude and how she got on his dad’s nerves. He preferred to discuss Emily.

“I was going to, but I met someone.”

“Really? Of the female persuasion?”

“Yes, Emily Cooper. Remember her?”

A pause. “Don’t think so.”

“Sure you do. Owen Cooper’s her father—a fishing guide on the coast. We stayed at their home that November before Mom died.”

“Yeah, I remember now. A pretty thing with big brown eyes. You were crazy about her, weren’t you?”

Jackson didn’t answer that. His father knew he’d been a lot more interested in Emily than in fishing. Instead, he said, “She’s a doctor now and works at the clinic where we installed the computers.”

“You don’t say.”

“Yes, and I had dinner with her tonight and I’m planning on seeing her tomorrow.”

“Life is strange,” his dad remarked.

“Sure is. I’ve got to go. Be nice to Aunt Maude.”

“I will, and you have a good time. Lord knows you deserve it.”

As Jackson hung up the phone, he planned on doing just that—enjoy his time with Emily.

THE NEXT MORNING Emily waited for Jackson to call or show up at her office, but by noon she began to get a déjà vu feeling. When she finished with her last patient for the morning, she asked Sharon if she’d had any private calls. Sharon said no, and a discomfort settled around her heart. She didn’t think she’d misjudged his sincerity, but then, she didn’t really know Jackson Talbert at all. Of one thing she was certain, she wasn’t waiting for him. She wouldn’t put herself through that again. But now that she’d screwed up her courage to tell him about the baby, she desperately wanted to…needed to. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

She ordered a take-out salad for lunch and was busily writing notes in patients’ charts when Sharon buzzed her.

She pushed a button on the intercom. “Yes?”

“There’s a Mr. Talbert on line two. Says it’s personal.”

Emily let out a deep breath. “Thanks, Sharon.”

She stared at the phone for a second, gathering her thoughts, then picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Hi, it’s Jackson.”

Her heart fluttered involuntarily at the sound of his voice.

“Yes, I know,” she said simply.

“What do you want to do tonight? You name it and we’ll do it.”

She bit her lip, remembering all the promises he’d made and remembering that he’d kept none of them. That didn’t matter. She had to talk to him; that was the important thing.

“I’ll probably get away from here about five-thirty and then I have to stop by the hospital. I won’t get home until around seven.”

“You work long hours.”

Yes, it’s what I need to keep the memories at bay.

“It’s part of my job,” she said lightly.

“You’ll be tired. Why don’t I pick something up and we’ll eat at your place and talk?”

She felt a moment of joy at his concern, but it vanished when she realized Jackson was probably hoping for a lot more than food and pleasant conversation. And he’d get it, but not the way he was expecting. Instead, he was going to get the biggest shock of his life.

“That’ll be fine,” she agreed, thinking it would be best if they met somewhere private instead of a public place. At least she’d be in her own surroundings.

“What would you like to eat?”

“Surprise me.”

There was a noticeable pause. “Okay, but remember you said that.” She could hear him smiling.

She gave him her address and they hung up, but Emily was still with him, still hearing his voice. Still experiencing the way he’d always made her feel… Oh, God, she had woven so many dreams around Jackson Talbert, and to her dismay, she found she could easily do it again. So many years, yet she could remember his touch, his smile, his energy, as if he’d never hurt her…never broken her heart. But he had. The past stood between them like a brick wall they couldn’t scale or tear down. Tonight, though, she’d make an attempt to dismantle the barrier brick by brick, and when she was through there’d be nothing left but the truth. A truth that would be stronger than any wall ever built, separating her and Jackson forever. She was preparing herself for the worst.

The rest of the day, between patients and rounds, she kept rehearsing what she had to say, but nothing seemed right. How did you tell a man he had a daughter he’d never see? She didn’t know, and finally decided there were no right words. She just had to do it.

They’d agreed to meet at eight. She drove into her garage a little before that and hurried inside, hoping she had a chance to shower and change before—

The doorbell stopped her halfway up the stairs and with a deep sigh she went to open the door. Jackson stood on the threshold with a large bag and a charming smile.

“Delivery, ma’am,” he joked.

He was dressed in khaki pants and a green plaid shirt that emphasized his beautiful eyes. That old familiar ache circulated through her stomach and she quickly curbed it. She couldn’t let sexual feelings sway her thinking.

She stepped aside and he entered her home. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m late getting in.”

“I know, I saw you drive up,” he said as he set the bag on the kitchen table. He turned to gaze at her. Her hair was clipped at the nape of her neck, and she wore a brown suit with a cream silk blouse. Her dark eyes were enormous and fatigued, but held a sultry welcome he remembered well. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He’d felt that about her years ago and that hadn’t changed.

She ran a hand nervously over her hair and he could tell she was tired—that was obvious. “If you’d like to freshen up, go ahead,” he offered. “I’m in no hurry.”

“Thanks, I will,” she said, and started up the stairs. She was grateful for this reprieve. She desperately needed some time to collect herself and to bolster her courage.

When she’d left, Jackson glanced around the condo. There were hardwood floors throughout and the living area was done in creams and greens with touches of mauve. Everything was orderly, elegant—perfect. Just like Emily.

He removed the food from the bag and arranged it on the table, then searched for plates, forks and knives, an easy task since Emily was so organized. He found wineglasses, too, and uncorked the Chardonnay he’d brought. As he poured it, he had no idea what the evening would bring but felt it could only be good. They’d both matured and could now enjoy the fruits of that process.

He only hoped she understood about the past and had forgiven him for his selfish behavior. He couldn’t believe he’d let someone as rare as Emily slip away, but then at twenty-one he hadn’t been thinking too clearly. If she let him, he planned to make it up to her. Oh, yes, he planned to do just that.

EMILY RUSHED INTO HER ROOM and stripped out of her business clothes. She grabbed a pair of ivory lounge pants and a tank top and put them on. She intended to be comfortable. After unfastening the clip, she brushed her hair vigorously and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were troubled. She could see that. Could Jackson? She carefully laid the brush on the vanity. It didn’t matter, she told herself. She had to tell him. She had to say the words she’d never said to another person. She had to say them out loud.

I was pregnant. I gave our daughter away.

A lump formed in her throat as the impact of those callous words tore and gnawed at her heart. She’d lived with that feeling for so long and now…

Turning toward the door, she forced herself to stop thinking about the revelation she had to make. She actually wanted to talk about their daughter with Jackson, but once she did, he might not want to see her again. That was a risk she had to take.

As she entered the kitchen, she stopped short. The table was set with candles and wine and she stared openmouthed at the poached salmon, angel hair pasta and spinach salad.

“Jackson! How did you manage this?”

Jackson was busy taking in her new appearance. Her breasts were pressed invitingly against her sleeveless top and her hips were slim and… Her figure hadn’t changed in all these years, except that her breasts seemed fuller, and he ached for her with an intensity that astonished him.

“Jackson,” she said again to get his attention.

He shook his head to clear it of pleasant memories. “I’m very creative.” He said the first thing that came into his mind. “After your long day, you need more than fast food.”

If she knew all the trouble he’d gone to, she’d probably laugh. He wanted tonight to be special and he’d spent most of the afternoon making sure it would be just that. He’d found a restaurant and a chef who agreed to do everything he’d asked. He’d even bought serving dishes because he didn’t want the food in plastic or paper.

“That’s so thoughtful.” She couldn’t squelch the joy that rose inside her. This was something she hadn’t expected.

“I’m a thoughtful guy. Don’t you remember?” he asked teasingly as he held out a chair for her.

She did. He was kind and caring, too. When he’d learned she was a virgin, he hadn’t wanted to make love to her, but she had pressured him, convinced him otherwise. At seventeen, she’d enjoyed the power she had over him. Those feelings—the passion, the companionship, the excitement—had made her forget the bitter things about her life, but they’d created so many more problems.

They ate in silence, simply savoring the delicious food. Finally Jackson asked, “Is your father still a fishing guide?”

“Oh, yes. If he can’t be on the water several times a week, he goes a little crazy.”

“And your mother—how is she?”

“Having Rebecca weakened her heart, and she has a lot of bad days. Of course, at her age, having to deal with a seventeen-year-old stresses her out and she loses her patience, which triggers other problems.”

“I don’t think age has anything to do with it,” he remarked. “She didn’t have much patience with you, either.”

“No, she didn’t.” Emily ran her finger along the rim of her wineglass. “But as I told you in my office, Becca’s very outspoken and that causes a lot of heated arguments.”

“Whereas the only time you rebelled was with me,” he said, and saw the conflicting emotions shift across her face.

“Yes.” Her eyes caught his with a fierceness he didn’t understand.

He reached over and took her hand, wanting to reassure her about their time together. “You didn’t do anything bad, Emily. What we shared was something rare and special. That doesn’t happen too often.”

She freed her hand slowly, his touch stirring emotions she couldn’t face at this moment. He was being so compassionate, so gentle…everything she remembered him to be. She couldn’t face that, either. She had to tell him, had to see this through. And when he knew, those recaptured emotions would crumble into nothingness. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. This was harder than she’d ever imagined.

Suddenly, she got to her feet. “I’d better clean up,” she said nervously, and began to carry dishes to the sink.

Jackson watched her with a puzzled expression, then stood to help her. They cleaned up the dishes without saying a word and carried their wineglasses into the living room. Jackson sat on the sofa; she sat beside him, twisting her glass with such force that he feared she was in danger of breaking it. Uneasiness darted along his spine.

“I need to talk to you,” she said quietly, still working the glass.

“I can see that.”

“This isn’t easy.”

“I can see that, too,” he answered. He placed his hand over hers to stop the agitated movement.

She drew back. “Don’t touch me, please.”

That uneasiness knotted into a hard ball in his stomach, and he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t prepared for this. They were getting along so well. He tried to think of what he’d said to upset her, but nothing came to mind that would cause this reaction.

She set her glass on the coffee table. “You think those days we spent together were special, and they were—until you left and never came back.”

Oh, God, that was it. She still hadn’t forgiven him. He should’ve known.

He turned to her but didn’t touch her. “Emily, I’m so sorry. I tried to explain. I thought you understood.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. “I waited and waited for you to come back, but you didn’t. I waited for a call, a letter, but I didn’t get one of those, either. It was like you’d disappeared off the face of the earth. I needed you terribly, but…”

His chest tightened at the ache in her voice. He never imagined he’d hurt her so deeply, but she had such a passionate nature. They’d confessed their love and made vows to be together—vows he’d broken. It was clear he’d also broken her heart. He cursed himself for his callow youth. Somehow, he had to rectify this.

“Emily, I—”

“No.” She held up a hand. “Let me talk. I have to tell you.”

“Okay.” He settled back on the sofa and everything in him strained to hear her next words.

She clenched her hands in her lap, gaining courage, gaining strength. “After you left, I discovered I was…” The word stuck in her throat and she couldn’t finish the sentence.

After a moment, he asked, “Discovered what?”

She gulped in a deep breath and forced the words from a mouth that felt dry and bitter. “I discovered I was pregnant.” There…the words were out. Now they had to deal with them.

Absolute silence followed. Jackson shook his head. Had he heard her correctly? No, he couldn’t have.

“What did you say?” he asked warily.

Her eyes jerked to his. “I said I was pregnant.”

He shook his head again and tried to assimilate the words. But they didn’t make sense. “No, that can’t be true. We were so careful. We used a condom every time.”

“That last night we ran out and used the same one more than once. It must have weakened—must have torn—and we didn’t notice.”

“Oh, God.” The blood drained from his face. “It’s true. You were pregnant?”

“Yes,” she murmured in a low voice.

He raked an unsteady hand through his hair as he tried to grasp the situation. His eyes delved into hers. “Did you have an abortion?” The words seemed to come from somewhere outside him.

“No,” she whispered.

He swallowed hard. “You had the baby?”

“Yes.”

“Where…where is it?”

She knotted her fingers together until they were bloodless. This was the difficult part. Now she had to tell him what she’d done. And she had to do it before she lost her nerve.

“I was so scared,” she began in a trembling voice. “I tried and tried to reach you to no avail. Then my mother found out and she was furious at my stupidity. It was pure hell and I didn’t know what to do. In the end, I did what my parents wanted.”

“What was that?”

“I—I gave her up for adoption.”

The room spun crazily, then righted itself. So many emotions shot through him, each deep and cutting. I gave her up for adoption. He struggled to concentrate on Emily and her words. Her cruel words. But one thing was torturing his mind.

“We had a daughter?”

“Yes, but I never saw her. I only heard her crying. I asked to hold her, but they wouldn’t let me.” She spoke matter-of-factly, and that angered him.

He got to his feet, his body rigid. “You gave our daughter to strangers?”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “How could you do something like that? How could you? She was our flesh and blood. Didn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Do you think it was easy for me?” she snapped, her control slipping. “I was seventeen, alone and scared.”

“You weren’t alone. You had your parents.”

“My mother was having problems with her own pregnancy. They couldn’t help me.”

“That’s bull and you know it,” he shouted. “You just wanted to get rid of it as fast as possible so you could get on with your life, your big career.”

She rose to her feet, her eyes enormous with the emotions that consumed her. “How dare you! You weren’t here, so don’t tell me how it was. You didn’t have to live through the horror and pain of hurting your parents. And you have no idea what it was like to give birth all alone in a cold, sterile room and have that child taken from you before you could even see her face. I live with that agonizing memory every minute of every hour of every day. I hear her crying and I ache to hold her. So don’t stand there and act holier than thou—because you are not blameless.”

He paled under the attack and sank onto the sofa with a shattered expression. Emily wanted to say something, but any words she could have spoken were trapped between her need to console and her own desire for some sort of comfort from him.

Jackson thought of all the years he’d wanted a child and all along he’d had a daughter. A daughter! He had a daughter. The words went around and around in his head until he was dizzy with a sensation of loss and despair. He wasn’t blameless, just as she’d said, and that intensified the feeling until he was afraid he might be ill.

“Jackson?” Emily found her voice.

Slowly he raised desolate eyes to her. “How could you give her away?”

She bit her lip, striving to explain, but the only thing that came out was “It’s something I bitterly regret.”

“Then why, Emily, why?”

She turned away, unable to answer. She had asked herself that same question so many times and never found a reason, an excuse, that gave her any peace.

“Why are you telling me now? Is this some sadistic way of getting back at me for what I did?”

She whirled around. “No! I never intended to tell you at all. But last night, when you talked about having kids, I, ah, I wanted to tell you that you had a daughter. I couldn’t do it. Then later the feeling grew—and I have to admit it was purely selfish.” She drew a shuddering breath. “I have this need to share her with you. I’ve never done that with anyone.”

Jackson raked both hands through his hair. “God, Emily, I’m having a hard time taking this in.”

She knew that, and there was nothing she could say to ease his pain.

“Why didn’t your parents help you?”

“Remember, my mother was pregnant, and it was a difficult pregnancy. When she found out I was pregnant, too, she went into a rage, and the doctor said if she didn’t calm down, she could lose her baby. I was devastated. I didn’t want her to lose Rebecca.” She paused. “Later, she said I’d shamed and disgraced the family, and adoption was the only answer.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I was torn between my child and my parents. When I couldn’t reach you, I—” She choked back tears. Right now, those emotions seemed as real as ever.

“So you agreed to give the baby away?”

“Yes.”

He stood and knew he had to go. This was something he didn’t know how to handle and he was struggling to keep his temper.

“I came here tonight hoping we could salvage something from the past. But there’s nothing left except a deep, ugly void that keeps growing by the minute. I’m trying to understand, but I’m not there yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

He swung toward the door, then stopped. “Do you know where our daughter is?”

“No. The adoption was confidential.”

His expression tightened. “I’m sorry, Emily, but I have to get away from you. I just…I can’t accept this.” With that, he disappeared out the door. And out of her life.

CHAPTER FOUR

EMILY WALKED CALMLY upstairs to her bedroom. She lay across the bed and stared at the ceiling. Slowly the tears started, running unchecked from her eyes. I have to get away from you. Over and over the words kept torturing her. It was what she’d expected—the hatred, the disgust and anger. All the things she felt about herself, she recognized in his eyes. But the impact of actually seeing and hearing those emotions was much worse than she’d ever imagined. It was horrible and incapacitating.

Sobs racked her body and she turned over and curled into a ball. She shouldn’t have told him. She shouldn’t have. Now Jackson was hurting like she was. That had accomplished nothing; it had only made matters worse.

She had wanted to share her daughter with him, but she couldn’t share something she’d never had. She saw that now. Telling Jackson had been a big mistake and opened doors she couldn’t close. She had to find the strength to go on. She had before, and she would now. She kept telling herself that, but all she could hear was I have to get away from you.

In the early hours of the morning she fell into an exhausted sleep.

JACKSON DROVE STRAIGHT to his hotel and packed his bags. He’d flown to Houston, but he couldn’t wait for a flight. He had to leave now, so he rented a car and headed home to Dallas. He took I45 North, and as he drove through the night all he could hear was I was pregnant. I gave her up for adoption. Sweet, caring Emily had destroyed everything he’d held dear about life. She was pure, innocent, good—that was what he’d foolishly believed. She had shattered that illusion into so many parts he’d never be able to piece it together again.

Had he ever really known her? Was what they’d shared merely sexual? Had he confused sex with other emotions? He shook his head; he didn’t know anymore. His hand hit the steering wheel in anger. He wanted to understand, but other, deeper feelings kept getting in the way.

No wonder Emily was nervous when he’d first seen her in the boardroom. She had good reason to be. “How could she do it? How could she give our daughter away?” The words echoed in the car, but there was no answer and he felt there never would be.

Rain splattered the windshield and he flipped on the wipers. The steady to and fro movements seemed to calm some of his anger. To and fro, back and forth—the effect was almost hypnotic. He turned northeast off the freeway just before Dallas, and by four o’clock he was sitting on his dad’s deck, gazing across the peaceful lake. George lived on a privately owned lake, away from the noise and pollution of the big city. The water glistened silver with moonlight, but Jackson didn’t even notice.

I have a daughter. He would never know who she looked like, her personality, her likes or dislikes. He would know nothing about her—just that she’d been born. Being a man was lousy, he decided. A man should have more rights. He had a right to know his own child. The thought swept through his mind and certain ideas began to take shape. Before he could respond, a light came on in his father’s bedroom; George was an early riser. When a light shone through from the kitchen, Jackson stood and tapped on the back door.

“Dad, it’s Jackson. Let me in.”

The blind opened a crack and his father stared at him with a puzzled frown, then the door swung in.

“Jack, what are you doing here?” George Talbert wore navy-blue pajamas. His gray hair was tousled and he had a worried look in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Just let me in and I’ll explain.”

George moved aside, still frowning.

Jackson could smell coffee perking. “Coffee,” he sighed. “I need coffee.” He walked to the pine cabinets, grabbed two cups and filled them. Bringing the coffee to the oak table, he handed his dad a cup and sat down.

George scratched his head and took a seat.

Jackson sipped the strong, black coffee and wondered how to tell his father. That was the reason he was here. He had to tell someone.

The kitchen, dining area and living room all looked out onto the lake and Jackson sat for a moment, enjoying the tranquillity.

Finally George said, “You came all the way out here for a cup of coffee?”

“No,” Jackson answered, but said nothing else. He’d always been able to tell his dad anything, and he valued that bond. Now he had a hard time finding the right words.

“Why aren’t you still in Houston with that girl, Emily?”

The question whirled around in his mind, and he had to admit he’d hoped they’d be wrapped in each other’s arms this morning, discovering new and— What a fool he’d been.

“Are you going to tell me or just sit there with that gloomy expression? You know I’m not getting any younger.”

Jackson glanced at his dad. At sixty-four, he was active and in good health, and Jackson was grateful for that. He couldn’t stand to lose another person he loved—although there were no guarantees in life. That was a reality he’d learned a long time ago, but now he’d lost a daughter he hadn’t even known about, someone he’d never even had a chance to love.

“Jackson, talk to me, son,” George begged.

He took a sip of coffee. “I’m not sure where to start,” he said frankly.

“Does it have to do with Emily?”

“Yes, she told me something and I…I…”

“What?”

He swallowed painfully. “This isn’t easy.”

“Just say it.”

“She said that after I left Rockport, she found out she was…pregnant.”

George’s eyes opened wide. “Pregnant?”

“Yeah.”

“My God. A baby? She had your baby?”

“Yes.” His hand gripped the cup; he could crush it if he just applied pressure and he wanted to. He wanted to break something badly.

“Where is this child? Where’s my grandchild?”

Jackson looked up at that word—grandchild. His father had always wanted grandchildren, but after his divorce from Janine, George had finally accepted that wasn’t going to happen. But all along, there’d been a girl out there who belonged to them. His daughter. His dad’s grandchild. A child they would never see.

“Jack.” His father waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention. “Where’s our child?”

He released a tight breath and said the words that felt like acid in his throat. “Emily gave her up for adoption.”

“My God, no!” George cried out.

“Yes, Emily gave her away. I don’t know where she is, and neither does Emily. Strangers have my daughter.”

“A girl, you have a daughter.” A softness came over George’s face. “Sarah would have loved a granddaughter.”

At the mention of his mother, Jackson had to stifle tears. He ran both hands down his face in a weary gesture. “I don’t know what to do. I’m so hurt and angry inside, I can’t think. All I can do is feel and I don’t like what I’m feeling.”

George stood. “I’ll get you another cup of coffee.”

Jackson started to protest, but he realized his father was giving him time.

Placing the cup in front of him, George said, “From what I remember about Emily, she was a pretty, sweet and caring girl. Owen and Rose were very protective of her. They kept a tight rein on her—especially Rose.”

“Rose hated my guts,” Jackson spit out.

“Well, she probably knew what you were doing with her daughter.” George sat down and looked directly at his son.

Jackson met that look squarely. “Did you?”

George shrugged. “I knew something was happening. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, and I saw all those secret glances at the dinner table. One night I woke up and you weren’t in the room or in the bathroom. It was a couple of hours before you came back. I figured you were with Emily, but I didn’t do anything about it. Hell, you were twenty-one and a man. There was nothing I could do.”

“We were so careful…. Neither one of us was ready for a pregnancy.”

“Did you love her?”

“What?” he asked, but he’d heard the question. He just didn’t want to answer it.

“Did you love Emily?” George repeated.

“Yes,” he admitted slowly.

“Did you promise to go back and see her?”

He wanted to block out the truth, but he couldn’t. “Yes, but then you and Mom told me about her illness and I couldn’t think about anything else. Later, I just had to get away.”

George patted his arm. “It was a difficult time for all of us.”

He raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “I just can’t understand how she could do that—give up our baby.”

“I’m sure she didn’t do it without a lot of pain and suffering. It couldn’t have been an easy decision. Why didn’t her parents help her?”

“When Rose found out, she flew into a rage and there was some danger of her losing her own baby.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about Rose’s pregnancy.”

“Emily said she did what her parents wanted.”

“What did she mean by that?”

“Her parents were hurt and embarrassed by the situation and they insisted that the only thing to do was give the baby away so no one would ever find out. They had their own child to worry about and I suppose they weren’t interested in raising Emily’s bastard.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

George shook his head. “Emily was alone, scared and probably didn’t know what to do. Why in God’s name didn’t she call you? She knew where you lived.”

“She did,” Jackson said in a low voice. “She called the hardware store and the house, but I was too upset about Mom to take any calls, so she never got through to me.”

“Oh, my God.” His father sounded horrified.

What?” Jackson asked urgently.

“I remember there were several calls from Owen after Sarah died. I wasn’t in a mood to talk to anyone. Besides, I assumed it was just about fishing. Maybe he was calling about Emily’s pregnancy.”

Jackson frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t understand why the man kept leaving messages for me.” George slapped the table with his hand. “Jack, we’ve done that family a terrible injustice.”

Jackson took that news the way he had all the rest—with a blow that was threatening to overwhelm him. “I can’t grasp any of this.”

George shook his head. “I know, son.”

Jackson didn’t say anything else and George asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I keep wavering between anger and compassion,” Jackson told him. “Emily had to deal with the pregnancy alone. As you said, that couldn’t have been easy. She’s a proud, intelligent woman.”

“Yes,” George agreed.

“Then, on the other hand, I feel she callously gave our child away. I don’t even know where my daughter was born or anything about her.”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

“I was in a state of shock and…I had to get away from Emily before I said something I’d later regret.”

“I see,” George muttered. “What do you plan to do?”

“I’m not sure,” Jackson said, taking a swallow of coffee.

“You’re not planning on leaving things like this, are you?”

Jackson inhaled deeply. “I can’t answer all these questions, Dad. Give me some space.”

“I always try to do that,” George said in a reasonable voice.

He knew that and he was snapping at his father for no reason. There was silence for a moment, then Jackson said, “Sorry, Dad, but there’s something on my mind and I can’t shake it.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can always talk to me.”

He knew that, too. He took another deep breath. “I’m thinking of finding my daughter.” The words seemed to embrace the morning air and they sounded so right, so real.

“Hot damn! Now you’re talking.”

Jackson tried to smile at his dad’s exuberance, but his facial muscles couldn’t complete the task. “She has Talbert blood in her veins and she deserves to know that, and I deserve to know where she is and that she’s happy.” He wasn’t sure of much, but he was sure about that.

“Did you talk this over with Emily?” George asked.

Jackson fingered his cup. “No.”

Silence. Then George plunged on. “Do you plan to?”

“I’m having a hard time thinking about Emily.”

“Well, son, much as you want to deny it, you’re not blameless in this.”

Jackson sucked his breath in sharply. He’d never expected to hear those words from his father—the same words Emily had used. But it was the truth, and it burned through him like a wildfire, searing nerves that were already frayed and weak.

“Don’t you think I’m aware of that?” he shot back.

“I’m just saying there has to be a good reason for what she did. Find out what it is, then do something about it.”

“Dad, you make this—”

“Talk to Emily,” George broke in. “Then find my granddaughter, because I won’t settle for anything less.”

Jackson lifted an eyebrow. “Your granddaughter, huh? All of a sudden this is about your granddaughter.”

Without missing a beat, George replied, “You’re damn right it is.”

Jackson shrugged. “Well, whatever we call her, she’s probably happy and with a loving family. She may not even suspect she’s adopted.”

“And it could be just the opposite,” George said solemnly.

Jackson squeezed his eyes tight at the agonizing thought.

“You have to talk to Emily. The way to find your daughter is through Emily.”

“Dad.” Jackson sighed in irritation and sipped at his coffee.

“Last night you were glad enough to see her,” George reminded him.

“That was last night.”

“How did you leave things?”

“Not good.”

Silence ensued again.

George watched his son closely. “I raised you better than that.”

Jackson’s eyes slammed into his father’s, demanding an explanation.

“I raised you never to judge anyone unfairly,” George said quietly. “And you’re judging Emily.”

Jackson got to his feet and carried his cup to the sink. His father was correct, as always. He was judging Emily, something he had no business doing. He didn’t know what had happened back then and he’d never bothered to go and find out. He didn’t have a right to anger or much of anything else. It took two to create a baby, and he had to take responsibility.

His father was making him think, opening his eyes, and what he saw disturbed him. At the moment, he could only deal with the pain inside him, but he had to face the consequences of his actions—then and now.

He was not blameless.

“I didn’t say that to hurt you,” George said anxiously.

Jackson glanced up as the morning sun made its appearance. “I know, Dad,” he told him. “You said it to make me think—like you always do.”

George breathed a long sigh. “Then you’ll see Emily.”

“I don’t have much choice, but I’ve got some thinking to do first.”

George walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a frying pan. “How about a big breakfast?”

Jackson smiled as the muscles in his face relaxed. “I could use one of your artery-clogging meals.”

“Watch your mouth, my boy,” George said in a teasing voice, then in a more serious tone, he added, “I’m just saying one more thing and this is strictly an old man’s observation. You never cared for Janine the way you cared for Emily.”

“Dad,” Jackson said impatiently, but he suddenly realized that was probably true. He had loved Emily, like he’d told his dad, truly loved her with all the enthusiasm and honesty of youth.

“Something good will come of this. I feel it,” his father was saying. “Soon, I hope, I’ll be able to take my granddaughter out there—” he pointed to the lake “—fishing. I’ll teach her to bait a hook and show her how to use a rod and reel. I’ll tell her about her grandmother…” His voice cracked on the last word.

Jackson swallowed hard at the pain in his father’s voice, and they embraced. “Now, don’t go getting your hopes up. Remember she’ll be eighteen years old and I doubt she has much interest in fishing.”

“Doesn’t matter. Something good will come of this. Mark my words,” George mumbled.

Jackson didn’t agree, didn’t argue, didn’t speak. All he felt was a pain as intense as when his mother had passed away and he was struggling to stay afloat and keep everything in perspective—his emotions, his life…and Emily.

EMILY WOKE WITH a throbbing headache, but she hadn’t had any dreams. That was a relief. She managed to dress and get to work on time. If anyone noticed her hollow-eyed appearance, nothing was said. She went through the routine of her day, trying not to think, trying only to concentrate on her patients, but at the oddest times she’d hear Jackson’s voice and feel like bursting into tears. She didn’t—she was too professional for that—but it was a struggle all the same.

By the end of the day, she knew what she had to do. She was going home—as she’d promised Becca. She needed to get away, to see her parents, see Becca, and get a different slant on things. Her emotions were close to the breaking point.

She met with Dr. Freeman, who would oversee her patients while she was gone. She hadn’t had more than two days off in years and decided to take ten. She wanted to be home for Becca’s prom. That would cheer her up.

Stopping by the post office, she arranged for her mail to be collected. She also had the newspaper stopped. Then she drove to the condo and packed. Within an hour, she was headed for Rockport, Texas, where she was born and raised.

She tried to keep her mind a blank but couldn’t. She kept seeing Jackson’s face and hearing his cruel words. Would he ever understand? She doubted it, because she had a hard enough time understanding it. Until she found some sort of forgiveness in herself, she couldn’t expect Jackson to calmly accept her actions.

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