Chapter 29

Jennifer intended to tell Kyle the whole truth about the past. She’d walked the beach for half the night, thinking about it, agonizing over what had happened. Tears had fallen, the way she knew they would, accompanying them was the bleak agony of despair that comes when someone you love with all your heart dies … unexpectedly.

But now, with Thelma Mae’s apparent suicide and Chad’s killer still on the loose, it didn’t seem as if it were the appropriate time to discuss her problems. An inner voice, the one she usually tuned out, delivered a message. You’re going into a denial mode again. Not talking about it won’t make it go away.

She sat up and swung around, facing him, careful not to hit Sadie with her feet. Knees touching, she gazed across the short space into his eyes.

“My mother’s death was hard on me for several reasons,” she began. “I was in a strange place, a farm outside of Macon, Georgia. The man my mother had married so hastily didn’t give a hoot about me, and I knew it. I was baggage who came with my mother. With her gone, I was absolutely terrified about what would become of me.”

She paused, bracing herself for the rest of the story, and Kyle said, “I know how you felt. I recall arriving at my cousin’s house with the social worker. I’d never met my second cousin and barely remembered Dad mentioning her. Then there I was at her door. I questioned if she would want me. As it turned out, she didn’t.”

There was a ring in his voice that sounded achingly familiar. She knew he’d endured unimaginable hardships during those years when their parents’ deaths had separated them. What had happened to her didn’t mean he hadn’t suffered as well.

“Go on,” he eagerly prompted when she didn’t continue.

“I was frightened,” she confessed, “although there was no reason to be. Hiram Whitmore was a very special man. When he died, I found a quote from Louis L’Amour in his wallet: ‘Sometimes the most important things in a man’s life are the ones he talks about least.’”

Kyle thought for a moment, then said, “That fit my father, too. He adored your mother, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say how he felt.”

“Then it was too late for words.”

Kyle nodded. “You’re right. At a certain point, it’s too late for words.”

Jennifer nodded. In her heart, she knew how she felt, but was it too late for words, too late to express the sadness she struggled to forget.

“Jen? You were telling me about your stepfather,” prompted Kyle.

She inhaled a stabilizing breath, looked directly into his eyes, then continued, “The night before my mother took her life, she came to my room. I don’t know how she’d missed it for so long, but she’d finally noticed … I was pregnant.”

The words hung in the early-morning air as incomprehensible as a foreign language. For a moment, Kyle didn’t say anything, but his eyes suddenly darkened with emotion. “My baby?” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

All Jennifer could do was nod. In her mind’s eye, she saw their little girl. Laughing green eyes. A captivating smile. The most precious child in the whole world.

Kyle sprang to his feet, then sat on the chaise beside her. He hugged her close, not saying anything as he rested his forehead against hers. “Jenny, oh, God, I never knew.” He threw back his head and raked his hand through his dark hair so roughly that strands pulled loose from the thong at the nape of his neck. “I thought we’d been careful.”

She drew into herself, looking at him, yet seeing their little girl when she gazed into those same green eyes. Her lower lip began to tremble, and it was all she could do to keep herself from crying. She bit down on her lip until it hurt to steady herself.

“We weren’t careful enough,” she heard herself whisper. “Mom confronted me, and I admitted you were the father.”

“Oh, Jenny, I wish I could have been there to help.”

“There wasn’t anything you could have done. The minute I uttered your name, mother backed away from me, shaking her head. She adored you and couldn’t believe you and I had … you know.”

“I should have known better. We were too young to be having sex.”

She shrugged. “We were just kids. Babies having babies was what my stepfather said.”

“We were in love.” His hoarse whisper broke the silence. “I’m still in love with you, Jenny. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Some part of her still loved him, too. He would always have a place in her heart, but she had experienced another, different kind of love, a profound, all-encompassing type of love that still gripped her.

His words hung between them like a dark shroud. She hadn’t meant to burden him with guilt or recrimination, but she didn’t know what to say. There was so much more to tell, yet she couldn’t make herself say the words.

“You told your mother this just before she killed herself, so you blame yourself for her death, right?”

“Not entirely.” She glanced up at the morning sun glinting through the trees and tried to be totally honest. “My mother left a note saying she couldn’t live without your father, never mentioning my pregnancy. I had to break the news to Hiram myself.”

“What did your stepfather say?” Kyle asked, slipping his arm around her again.

“He was shocked, of course, but he was a very good man. He was so supportive.” A flash of wild grief ripped through her, remembering the taciturn man who’d stood by her side when she had no one else. “I kept hoping you and your father would come.”

“Oh, Jenny,” he breathed the words into the hair covering her ear as he hugged her close, “nothing on earth would have kept me away had I known where to find you. My dad would have done anything to help you, but he was already gone.”

Her sense of loss was too deep for tears, too terrible to express. She gazed into the green eyes that had haunted her for all of her adult life: the eyes of the father and the eyes of his child.

He tipped her face up with the palm of his large hand, then kissed the tip of her nose. “Jenny, you gave up our baby, didn’t you?”

She pulled back, closing her eyes and reliving the pain. Her throat seemed to close up and her tongue felt too thick to speak.

“It’s okay,” he said gently when she didn’t answer. “No wonder you doused me with that pitcher of margaritas. You had to go through the birth and adoption alone.”

Her disappointment in him became a heavy, painful knot in her chest. “How could you possibly think I would give up our baby? I couldn’t allow my baby to go to some family who might divorce or might mistreat her. People told me that it would be better, but I didn’t believe them.”

He covered his eyes with his hand, then moaned. “Oh, Jen, what can I say?”

She lifted her shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. What could anyone say now that Hiram Whitmore was gone? Her stepfather had been there for her, and no one else but Hiram could truly appreciate the grief that still weighed her down.

Kyle studied her intently for a long moment, then asked, “What became of our child?”

“Chloe. Our baby was a little girl and I named her Chloe.” She didn’t add that the baby had been born with blue eyes, which later became hauntingly familiar green eyes. “I kept her, and took her home to Hiram’s farm outside Macon, Georgia.”

“Where is she now?” he asked, his voice raw with emotion.

Her lower lip trembled as she returned his gaze. All she could force herself to say was, “Chloe died.”

He threw back his head and looked up at the morning sky for a moment. “How? Did she become ill, or what?”

“No. Chloe was a healthy baby, and so cute.” A long-forgotten image popped into her mind. Chloe trying to walk, holding on to the rump of one of the bloodhounds her stepfather raised. She took a tumble and the dog turned around and licked the little girl’s face. Chloe had giggled with delight. “You can’t imagine how precious Chloe was.”

“Jen, what happened to her?”

Guilt raced through her bloodstream like a powerful narcotic. How could she admit what she had done? But Kyle’s unwavering gaze told her that now was the time to confess.

“I brought Chloe home and learned to take care of her from a neighbor lady. My stepfather did what he could, but he’d never had children.”

“Aw, hell. I wish I could have been there.”

She didn’t know what to say. If Kyle had been with her, things might have been different, but he hadn’t been at her side. She had been the one responsible for what had happened.

“You have no idea how much I loved Chloe. No matter what happened to me, she was worth it.” She looked away, remembering the hurt yet shunting it aside. “How do you think the other students at school felt about an unwed mother?”

He exhaled in one long sigh, his head pitching forward and releasing more hair from the thong at the nape of his neck. When his head came up again, he gazed at her for a moment, then said, “They were cruel to you.”

“Yes, but I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was graduate so I could go on to college.”

“With a baby?”

“Of course. I planned to move to Atlanta, attend college part time while I worked to support us.”

His green eyes pierced the distance between them, expecting nothing less than the whole truth. “Jen, tell me what happened to Chloe. You’ve gotten sidetracked.”

She’d put it off as long as she could. “I was finishing my senior year, and Chloe was staying with a neighbor down the road. This arrangement worked for us because I was gone all day, and Mrs. Littleton watched her grandson as well as Chloe.

“I would come back each afternoon, pick up Chloe and walk back to the farm, then prepare dinner. Hiram would drift in later and join us. He adored Chloe. To see him, you would have thought he was her grandfather.”

“What happened?” he asked again.

“One day I came to the Littletons’ to pick up Chloe, and they told me Chloe had wandered away, but they thought she was nearby. Instead of calling my stepfather to bring one of his man trailers, I rushed out to find her and lost valuable time.” Guilt ate at her insides, burning like a corrosive acid. “If only I had called Hiram immediately, Chloe would be alive today.”

“Jen, don’t blame yourself,” he said, his voice gentle. “Every mother would have done the same thing.”

“But I wasn’t every mother. I’d watched Hiram train the bloodhounds. I’d even gone on several searches with him. I knew how crucial it is to get the dogs to the scene. Time is everything. The first hour a person is missing is called the Golden Hour because the scent trail is still fresh, and you have the best chance of finding them.” She threw up her hands. “I blew it. By the time Hiram arrived with his best bloodhound, Chloe had been gone for over two hours. We searched the area and came to the ravine that fills up and becomes a pond in wet years.”

“Oh, Jen, no, no.”

“My stepfather reached the pond first, then I came up behind him.”

A shadow of alarm crossed Kyle’s face, and he reached out to touch her shoulder. He clasped it with his large hand and squeezed, expressing his sympathy.

“There was Chloe floating, face down.” She heard her own voice break. “I knew she was dead, but I flung myself into the water. I pulled Chloe to shore and tried to revive her, but i-it was too late.”

“Aw, hell, Jenny,” he said, pulling her close. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you. I can’t imagine …”

“Until then I had no idea that lost children gravitate to water. The very water they love so much kills them.”

“Jenny,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “What you must have gone through. I’m so sorry, honey.”

“I was a total basket case. I don’t remember much. Hiram took care of the funeral. I stood there while the earth was being shoveled on top of the little white coffin, but it seemed surreal. If Hiram hadn’t been holding me, I would have jumped in with Chloe.” As she spoke, her voice dropped until she was barely whispering.

She pulled away, fighting back the tears. Unspoken pain glimmered in his eyes as he brushed away a tear she didn’t know had fallen. The smooth pad of his thumb rubbed the droplet away. It was a simple gesture, but one that seemed infinitely tender.

“I wish I’d been there to help you, Jenny.”

“Chloe was the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I wish I could have known her.”

“She had your green eyes, and her hair was light like mine.” Swallowing the sob rising in her throat, she went on. “She was a smart, happy child.”

He gathered her in his arms and held her snugly against his chest. Gazing into her eyes, he said, “I meant what I said. I love you. I always have.” He touched his lips to her forehead. “I know there will never be another Chloe, but I want to marry you and have a family.”

She parted her lips to tell him that she was never ever going to have another child, but he kept talking.

“I’ve always wanted a big family. Three, maybe four kids. I think I’ll be a good father.” He flashed her an adorable grin. “So, what do you say? Will you marry me?”

She started to explain why she couldn’t marry him. Sheriff Prichett came crashing through the bushes into the pool area followed by one of his deputies, cutting her off before she’d begun.

“Tol’ ya they’d be tagether.” Told you they’d be together. The sheriff rocked back on his heels, saying to Jennifer, “Well, missy, looks like you’re the prime suspect.”