Chapter 12
Twelve
Jack sat in his son’s room, watching the methodic rise and fall of the little boy’s chest as he breathed. When Sam had first come to him, only a little over three months old, Jack had been terrified of SIDS. He’d kept the baby in a cradle in his own bedroom, close enough to reach over and touch the little chest whenever he woke during the night. The rhythmic up and down motion had soothed him then.
The time had long since passed for Jack to worry about his boy making it through the night. But still, on nights when his mind whirled and wouldn’t let him sleep, he’d sneak into Sam’s bedroom, place his hand over his son’s chest, and let the soft cadence of his breathing—his life force—comfort him.
He’d never known what it was like to love a person more than himself until Sam had come into his life. That tiny little person had crept into his heart and grasped it with those chubby little hands, until Jack wondered if his heart had room for anyone else.
During the last week, he’d discovered how spacious his heart actually was. Holly had sneaked in. Somehow, she’d uncovered the key. Jack hadn’t planned to fall in love with her. Yet, when he brought her into his home and introduced her to his son, he’d known she was the one.
The one he’d been searching for his whole life. He just hadn’t let it materialize on a conscious level.
He sighed and gently laid his palm on his son’s chest. He loved this child more than anything. He’d die for his little boy. If anyone dared to harm him? Such a perpetrator had better look to God for forgiveness, for he’d get none from Jack.
Sam’s heartbeat fluttered beneath Jack’s fingertips and his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath of sleep.
Holly had hurt Sam.
Sam had wandered into the barn during midmorning, his big brown eyes wide and confused. “Luisa says Holly left.”
Jack had turned from his chore. “What?”
“Yeah. She was supposed to go riding with us again but she left.”
“Oh, God.” Jack’s heart had plummeted to his stomach. Something was wrong. She wouldn’t just…take off.
“How’d she go? She doesn’t have her car.”
“Carlos took her.”
He had scooped Sam into his arms and carried him quickly back to the house. “Luisa!” He slammed the door. “Luisa, where are you?”
She’d come running. “I’m here. Goodness, what’s wrong?”
“Where’s Holly?”
“She had to go. Carlos drove her home.”
“Why? What happened?”
“She just said she was sorry. That something came up.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yes. She was fine when she left here. She said she’d call you later.”
“Oh. Thank goodness.”
“Does that mean she’s not goin’ ridin’ with us today, Daddy?” Sam’s big eyes held sadness.
“I’m afraid so, pal,” Jack had said, kneeling down to face his son. “But I’m sure she’ll come back soon to go ridin’.”
“But she promised.”
“I know. I’m sure she has a good reason why she can’t go today. Tell you what, we’ll go ridin’ anyway. Just you and me. How does that sound?”
Sam had sniffed. “Yeah, that’d be good I guess.”
Jack had spent the rest of the day with his son. His heart drank in the pleasure of being with his little boy. When Sam had fallen asleep to a story of the Old West, he’d had an innocent smile on his face.
He’d finally stopped wondering why Holly hadn’t stayed to spend the rest of the weekend.
Jack had taken care of his son, made sure he was happy and unhurt, because that’s what a father did.
No one existed to take away Jack’s own hurt.
Nearly midnight, and here he sat, watching his son sleep. How was it possible Sam had been so upset by Holly’s departure? He’d known her only two days.
Jack understood. Holly had that effect on people. He’d only known her for a little over a week himself, unless he counted their hot one-nighter. That only added ten hours, anyway.
Damn her! Her age had never made a speck of difference to him. That had to be what this was about. How could she disappear without any explanation other than “something suddenly came up?” It sounded like a bad sitcom. Luisa had said it had come out of nowhere. Holly hadn’t gotten a phone call or anything. She’d just up and said she needed to go home.
If she’d come to the barn to tell him what had happened, or if she’d even told Luisa, he’d have understood.
But no. She’d just left.
Now she hadn’t called.
Jack leaned down and gave his son a quick peck on the cheek. “Sleep tight, pal,” he whispered. He tucked the cotton sheet around him a little tighter and left the room.
He fell on his bed, still fully clothed.
It was over.
Hell, it hadn’t even begun.
* * *
Holly looked at her watch. Eight fourteen a.m. Not even a minute had passed since she’d last looked. Was it too early to call Mark? It was Monday, but it was a holiday. He’d given the students his cell number, but he might not appreciate such an early call on a holiday.
Frantically, she picked up her own cell and dialed. Her heart beat like a stampede of buffalo. She’d risk Mark’s wrath. She needed to talk to Jack, to tell him how she felt, and why she’d left. God, please let him understand.
Five minutes later, Jack’s number programmed into her cell, she listened to the ringing on the other end. It wasn’t ringing, actually. It was Glen Campbell singing “Rhinestone Cowboy.” She couldn’t help but smile. Jack hadn’t even been alive when that song was popular.
“This is Jack,” came his whiskey-smooth voice.
“Jack? It’s me.”
A pause. A long pause. A pause so fucking long Holly thought for sure the earth had revolved once around the sun already.
Then, finally, “Holly.”
She sighed. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I want to apologize for—”
He cut her off. “Was it an emergency, Holly?”
“Well, not exactly, but—”
“Is someone dead?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“No. Of course not. No one’s dead.”
“Anyone in the hospital?”
“No. Jack, just listen—”
“Then there isn’t any reason why you couldn’t come tell me before you left. Hell, I’d have driven you home. I’d have done anything for you.”
Her heart skipped, and tears blurred her vision. “Oh, Jack. Please. I do have an explanation.”
“Not one I care to hear.”
“But I—”
“Goodbye, Holly.”
“Jack!” Had he hung up? Damn these cell phones! They won’t even tell you when someone hangs up on you!
“Jack! Jack!”
No reply.
A sob broke through, and she threw her cell phone against the wall. It clattered to the ground. She ran to it, relieved it was still intact for the most part. She slid the battery cover back in place and hit redial.
More Glen Campbell.
He didn’t answer, and it didn’t go to voicemail.
Damn! She tried again. Still no answer.
Now what? She had to talk to him.
She sped into her office and logged in to the Cougar Club. Those ladies would know what to do. No one was chatting. Well, what did she expect? It was before nine a.m. on a holiday morning.
She’d just have to go to Jack’s place. She hadn’t paid close attention when she’d been driven either way, but if she concentrated…
She took a quick shower, raked her fingers through her wet hair, and added a touch of lipstick. That was it. She didn’t want to take any more time. She had to get to Jack before it was too late.
It already is.
She brushed the thought from her mind. True, he might send her packing when he found she couldn’t have children, but she had to let him decide. She’d made the decision for him, and that was wrong.
Maybe all he wanted was a casual relationship. Maybe he wasn’t in love with her and never would be. Could she live with that?
She sighed and grabbed her purse and car keys from the kitchen counter. No use prognosticating. She’d have all her answers soon enough.