A Baby On The Way Page 6

  “You’re not leaving town, are you?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Promise me you won’t go without saying goodbye.”

  Did he dare?

  “Promise, Jake,” she whispered fiercely.

  “I promise.” He fled the house, hopped on his Harley and sped off into the darkness, not caring that the rev of the bike engine woke the neighbors. Or that Amanda, with her heart aching, stood in the shadows of the bedroom window, watching the taillights of the Harley disappear into the darkness.

  *

  JAKE APPROACHED the edge of the crowd gathered near the entrance of Silver Cliff High School. He wasn’t interested in the school-dedication ceremony, but he couldn’t decide where to go after waking up this morning from a makeshift bed on the cold, hard ground outside the remains of his childhood home. With no shower and still wearing last night’s clothes, he was certain he resembled something dragged from the depths of Canyon Lake.

  He’d blown it with Amanda. Maybe it was for the best. Sooner or later the truth would come out. He didn’t want Amanda to have to choose between him and her father. And then there remained the possibility that she’d wonder if his love for her had been real or if he’d just used her to avenge his mother. His and Amanda’s past was too convoluted to straighten out or make sense of.

  He’d do the noble thing and walk away. Walk away from the one woman who’d given him the very things he’d hungered for all his life—acceptance. Respect. Love.

  Jake’s thoughts were interrupted when Mayor Mike Passky tapped his fingers against the microphone. A chorus of groans followed the ear-piercing screech emitted by the sound system.

  “Ladies and gentlemen and former Soaring Eagle students. It is with great pride that we gather today on the steps of this historic building. Silver Cliff High opened its doors in 1927 and has proudly served the community for eighty years.” Jake half listened to the mayor drone on about the institution’s history and its teachers. He didn’t care that the classrooms would be converted into condos for the wealthy.

  “Hello, Jake.”

  Jake tensed, then steeled himself and turned. Milton Mahoney, former principal of the high school. A man whose one mission had been to make Jake’s life miserable.

  “Mahoney,” Jake muttered.

  Life had not treated the old man well. Only a handful of gray hair sprouted from his head. Mahoney’s eyelids and jowls sagged, and the lightweight sport coat hung on his frame like a tarp instead of a fitted jacket. Time and age had eliminated Mahoney’s threatening authority, but not Jake’s hard feelings toward the man.

  “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  The unexpected condolence caught Jake by surprise. “Thanks.”

  An uncomfortable silence ensued while Jake focused on the mayor’s accolades of the developer who’d purchased the school. Hell, the last place Jake would ever consider living was inside a classroom, but he supposed a sense of nostalgia appealed to some people.

  Irritated that Mahoney didn’t walk off, Jake grumbled, “If you’re worried about me sticking around town, don’t. I’m heading out shortly.” As soon as he said a final goodbye to Amanda.

  “Wait. I owe you an apology.”

  The ex-principal never apologized. Ever. “What for?”

  “For the way I treated you in high school.”

  Memories of the man humiliating Jake in front of other students hadn’t lost their sting with the passing of years. He’d been told countless times that he would never amount to much in life.

  Mahoney grabbed Jake’s arm and coaxed him away from the crowd. “There’s no excuse for my actions over the years, but I assure you it was nothing personal.”

  “Felt damn personal to me.”

  “I took out my anger at your mother on you,” Mahoney admitted.

  “What does my mother have to do with anything?” First the preacher, now the principal?

  “I was fresh out of college and a new teacher at the high school when your mother was a senior. I fell in love with her on sight and she loved me. At least in the beginning.”

  Jake had difficultly envisioning his mother with a jerk like Mahoney.

  “We couldn’t date, of course, but we found ways to be together. I bought an engagement ring and intended to propose after she graduated.”

  That Mahoney had once cared for his mother made the preacher’s treatment of her even more unforgivable. Not sure he wanted to hear the sordid details of a failed love affair between his mother and his former principal, Jake assured the man, “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  With an expression of utter wretchedness, Mahoney begged, “Yes, I do.”

  Unable to resist the pathetic plea, Jake nodded.

  “The week before your mother’s graduation, your father drifted into town. I’m not sure where Susan met him, but he turned her head. She broke things off with me before I had the chance to propose. At the end of the summer, your father left. A few weeks later Susan discovered she was pregnant with you. I offered to marry her. To give you my name and raise you as my son. She refused, believing that your father would return to marry her.”

  Jake finished the story. “But he never came back.”

  “He showed up a few months after you were born. Stayed around until your first birthday, then skipped town. To my knowledge that was the last time your mother ever saw him. I waited a few months to propose again. She said she refused to marry a man she couldn’t love.”

  But she could sleep with men she didn’t love.

  “Then Susan began drinking and I hated your father even more for what he’d done to her.” Mahoney cleared his throat. “You look like him.” The lines bracketing Mahoney’s mouth deepened with sorrow. “Every time I saw your face, I was reminded of the man who stole Susan from me. I’m sorry, Jake. More sorry than you’ll ever understand for taking out my hurt and anger on you.”

  Jake wasn’t sure what to say to Mahoney. The man had lived his entire life loving a woman who couldn’t return his. Jake needed time to digest the information, but he felt compelled to offer the former principal an olive branch. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but I’m glad you loved my mother. Glad someone did.”

  “She’d be very proud of you and what you’ve done with your life.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I understand you’ve been escorting Amanda Winslow to the reunion events.” When Jake snorted, Mahoney added, “Not much stays private in this town.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You two have a fight?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Mahoney shrugged. “Deputy John stopped in at the Breakfast Mill and mentioned that a neighbor of Amanda’s called in a noise complaint about a loud motorcycle. You’re the only one in town with a Harley.” Mahoney’s gaze roamed over Jake. “Looks like you slept in your clothes.”

  “I did.”

  “You’re welcome to shower and get ready at my place for the dinner tonight.”

  Jake stared at Mahoney as though he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with the man who’d had it out for him all through high school. He rubbed the stubble on his face and considered the offer.

  He pictured Amanda attending the reunion dinner all alone. Sitting single at a table full of doubles. Maybe forever wasn’t in the cards for them. But before leaving town, he would be her escort this evening, and if she wished to live with the memory, he’d give her the night of lovemaking she’d waited twenty long years for.

  “Thanks, Mahoney. I’ll take you up on your offer.”

  Chapter Seven

  6:01 p.m.

  He’s not coming. Amanda paced the front hallway, debating whether to leave for the hotel or wait ten more minutes in the hope that Jake would show up.

  The phone had rung off the hook all day. Valerie wanted to know if she and Jake had broken up—as if they’d been a couple in the first place. Deputy John advised her that a neighbor had reported a commotion last nigh
t—Jake revving the Harley engine as he’d sped off. Miss Blanchard suggested her nephew escort Amanda to the dinner and dance—assuming Jake intended to stand her up. And several more calls from her nosy library staff, collecting fodder for the gossip mill.

  When the phone had ceased ringing, Amanda had attempted to make sense of what had transpired between her and Jake the previous evening. What should have been a night of enchanted lovemaking had ended with Jake walking out the front door. She analyzed their conversation over and over and arrived at one conclusion: her father had been the reason Jake had fled town following their graduation ceremony. The idea that her father’s actions had affected Jake so deeply he’d held on to the memory all these years made Amanda both furious and sad.

  She’d never expected Jake to waltz back into her life, and refused to watch him ride out of town a second time without putting up a fight. But she couldn’t wage a battle against something she didn’t understand—which left her no choice but to confront the source of the conflict.

  After an extremely uncomfortable phone conversation with her father, Amanda had hung up and cried. Cried for Jake and the pain, anger and humiliation he’d carried inside him all these years. Cried for Susan, a troubled woman with a beautiful soul who’d been used in such a cruel way. Cried for her mother, who was to this day unaware of her husband’s betrayal. Cried for her father, who was deeply remorseful for his actions and would one day have to answer to his highest critic. And last, she’d cried for the loss of what might have been and what might never be between her and Jake.

  She was under no illusion that rehashing the past would fix things between her and Jake. But if Jake was half the man she believed him to be, then he’d allow her the courtesy of speaking her mind. Now all she had to do was pray he’d show up tonight so she had the opportunity to convince him that together they could overcome the past and reach for the future they both deserved.

  The rumble of a motorcycle engine disrupted Amanda’s thoughts. Thank you, God. She closed her eyes against the sting of tears and pulled in several deep breaths as anxiety gave way to relief. Until this moment she hadn’t wished to admit how worried she’d been that Jake had skipped town without saying goodbye.

  A sober face greeted her when she opened the door. He wore a one-button designer tux that had been tailored to fit his physique and had probably cost five times as much as her dress. Tonight, his dark hair was slicked back, lending him a rakish air. Only Amanda understood that the handsome exterior hid a tortured soul.

  “Hi.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

  “You look gorgeous.” His gaze caressed her body, from her upswept hairdo to the tips of her French-manicured toenails.

  “Thank you.” Fingering the knee-length hem, she added, “It’s a Marilyn Monroe—”

  “The Seven Year Itch,” he interrupted. “The famous movie where she stands over a New York City subway grate, her dress blowing up around her waist.” One brow rose suggestively.

  “Shame on you,” she scolded with a smile. “What would people say if the town librarian flipped up her dress in public?”

  “That she’s got the sexiest legs west of the Rocky Mountains.”

  “You’re a terrible flirt.” She motioned to the florist’s box he held. “You bought me a corsage.”

  “I’ve always wanted to escort a girl to a school dance.” He shrugged as if embarrassed by the confession.

  Keeping her eyes on the white tea roses arranged around a wristband, she asked, “Why didn’t you?” I would have said yes.

  “The girl I would have liked to ask to the prom wasn’t allowed to go with a boy like me.”

  Her heart ached at how much hurt her father had caused them both. “Come inside.”

  Amanda searched for a pair of scissors to open the florist box while Jake lounged in the kitchen doorway. “Did Stephie Dalton help you pick this out?” Stephie had graduated in their high-school class and was the owner of the town’s sole flower shop.

  “I believe she was upset that I didn’t recognize her right away with those fake boobs and big hair.” Jake grinned.

  “She’s not so bad once you get to know her.” Rather than talking about Stephie, Amanda yearned to ask Jake where he’d slept last night. What he’d done all day. But she slipped the corsage over her wrist, grabbed her beaded clutch from the counter and sent a smile that promised all was well. “Ready.”

  Riding the Harley was out of the question unless Amanda intended to show off her new red satin panties to all the reunion attendees. They walked the six blocks to the posh hotel. The conversation was sporadic—“Nice weather this evening.” “They flew the steak in fresh for tonight’s menu.” “Did you know the mayor is an ex-DJ?”

  By the time they entered the main ballroom of the Silver Palace, Amanda worried that it might be too late for her and Jake.

  “What can I get for you from the bar?” he inquired.

  “A glass of white wine, please.”

  “No shooters tonight?”

  “I believe I’ve had enough shooters for a while,” she told him in her best librarian voice.

  After Jake walked off to the cash bar, Amanda took a moment to appreciate the extravagant decorations boasting their school’s colors: red, black and silver. The developer who’d purchased Silver Cliff High School surely helped foot the bill for such an extravagant party.

  The table centerpieces were interestingly gaudy—definitely Stephie Dalton’s handiwork. Rising from silver ice buckets loaded with fake silver nuggets were three-foot soaring eagle-shaped topiaries made of tiny white and black roses. Each bird held a red tulip in its mouth. A small stuffed mountain lion—the new school mascot—sat at each place setting, along with a souvenir silver-eagle napkin ring. Silver helium balloons floated from the center of the hundred and twenty-five tables, creating a starry-night atmosphere, and an elegant soaring-eagle ice sculpture graced the large banquet table at the back of the room.

  Jake returned with her wine. “Thad and Valerie invited us to join them.”

  “Sure.” Amanda weaved through the crowd, Jake behind her with a hand on her lower back. He was aware of the envious female glances following them. A surge of pride filled her at the thought that Jake was with her tonight and not any of the other gorgeous women milling about the room. They seated themselves at Thad and Valerie’s table, then Mayor Passky approached the podium on the stage. After his brief welcoming speech, lines formed at all three buffet tables.

  Although the conversation with their table guests was enjoyable, Amanda caught Jake’s growing unease as the dinner progressed. Surreptitiously she studied the reunion attendees at nearby tables and noticed for the first time the hushed conversations marked with pointed stares at Jake. Most of the reunion attendees didn’t even know Jake, but had probably heard about his past through the Silver Cliff grapevine, his successful software company and their spat last night. Feeling edgy, she set her napkin aside and uttered in Jake’s ear, “Let’s go.”

  Startled, he asked, “Now?”

  “I’m not feeling well.” Her stomach was a queasy ball of knots. She turned to Valerie and said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Then, ignoring her friend’s stunned expression, Amanda stood and Jake escorted her from the room amid a bevy of craned-neck stares.

  In the lobby, he touched her forehead in a tender gesture. “You don’t feel feverish.”

  “I’m fine.” She inched closer. “I just want to be alone with you.”

  He flashed a cocky grin. “In the mood for a ride on my Harley?”

  “If we can race Switchback Mountain.”

  “What about the dance at the high school?” he asked.

  Time was the enemy. Every minute…second counted. “I’d rather spend the rest of the evening dancing alone with you.”

  The heat in Jake’s eyes promised Amanda a dance she’d never forget.

  *

  THERE WAS SOMETHING sexy and exciting about riding a Harley with a dress on. The power
ful engine throbbed between Amanda’s thighs, arousing her. She clung to Jake as the motorcycle dipped low around a hairpin curve three miles outside town. The cool evening air wrecked her upswept hairdo, whipping the blond strands across her face, and her red dress billowed, the night air caressing her naked legs.

  After Jake straightened out the bike and accelerated on a straightaway, he stroked the sensitive flesh on the inside of her knee with his thumb. Stimulated by the touch…eager for more, she smashed her breasts to his back and nuzzled the crook of his neck. He growled, the sound in his throat vibrating against her mouth.

  “Hang on,” he shouted at the next sharp curve. No wonder high-school kids loved Switchback Mountain. The road, comprising curves and straightaways, could pass for a James Dean movie set. Jake slowed the bike’s speed and she soaked up the ambience of the twilight ride.

  “I want you.” She spoke the word against his ear, then slid her tongue inside. She might have been mistaken, but she swore Jake and not the Harley rumbled in response to her boldness.

  After a half mile Jake exited onto a mining road that led to the infamous Pecos Silver Mine. The silver mine had shut down in 1889 and only the crumbling remains of a handful of outbuildings dotted the landscape. Although the main entrance to the mine had been boarded up, the area was a favorite party place for local teenagers.

  Several years before Amanda had graduated, a student had been crushed to death after he’d knocked loose a support beam in one of the interior chambers. After the incident, local authorities dynamited the remaining chambers and tunnels, leaving only the large cavern-like entrance.

  Jake stopped the bike, then hopped off and held out a hand to assist her. She swung a leg over the seat, aware she offered Jake an eyeful of red satin panty. Dusk had enveloped the mountains, turning the smattering of trees along the ridge into hulking shadows.

  She and Jake stood for a moment, soaking up the quiet… each other…the knowledge of what they were about to share. Yearning wavered between them and Amanda thought her knees would give out if Jake didn’t take her in his arms.