Forgiving Hearts: For Better or Worse Part 13

"I do, but first let me make sure there's nothing I can do to help Miss Laurel in the kitchen."

Amanda walked into the room and rolled her eyes. "You might want to wait a minute. They're kissing."

"Kissing?" squealed Sophia. She turned to Jackson. "Can I see?"

He pushed her gently back down on the couch. "No, Miss Nosey, you cannot see. When people kiss, they don't want an audience."

"Did you ever kiss my mommy in the kitchen?"

The smile on his face grew. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."

"Oh, Daddy, I hate when you say that."

Laurel came into the room. "Hey, Jackson. I didn't hear you come in."

Amanda giggled. "Yeah, we know."

Sophia ran over to her. "Miss Laurel, were you kissing Mr. Colton in there?"

Laurel grinned. "Yes, I was. He kind of expects that when he gets home."

Sophia's face clouded over. "My daddy doesn't have anyone to kiss him when he gets home."

"Of course I do, pumpkin," Jackson answered. "I have you."

"That's not the same."

He crouched down in front of her. "It's not the same, but it's just as nice. Here, I'll show you." He leaned closer and kissed her cheek.

She giggled. "Daddy, your face is all scratchy."

Jackson stood up, shaking his head slowly. "I guess that means you won't let me kiss you anymore."

Sophia peeped at him through her hair, something he remembered Hannah doing. "Yes, I will. I like it."

"Then everything is fine, and we can eat dinner. Go wash your hands."

After Sophia had gone with Amanda into the hall bathroom, Laurel put her hand on Jackson's arm. "You handled that beautifully."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "She's been asking more and more questions about Hannah. I think seeing all the moms at preschool has made her realize what she's missing."

"That's natural, Jackson. Children are curious, and they notice everything."

"I wish...well, I wish things were different. I'm no subst.i.tute for a mother."

Colton appeared in the doorway. "Are you flirting with my wife again?"

Jackson laughed. "Wouldn't do me a bit of good. Laurel is giving me my weekly pep talk."

"Sorry to interrupt, but the natives are getting restless. I think we should eat."

Hannah felt only mild remorse as she dropped Mitch.e.l.l off at the airport. He would be upset when he figured out she wasn't coming to San Diego or back to New York for that matter, but she doubted he'd take the trouble to come after her. The happiness she sought with him had been a fantasy, a fiction created and perpetuated in her own mind.

If she hadn't known what it was like to be loved unconditionally, she might have been satisfied with Mitch.e.l.l. But her experience with Jackson taught her the true meaning of love, making it impossible for her to be content with a poor imitation. Her reprehensible treatment of him and Sophia hung about her like a millstone, robbing her of any kind of permanent happiness. She knew there was nothing she could do that would atone for the past.

Three days later she was walking through the air terminal in Atlanta. The sound of people conversing in Southern accents brought tears to her eyes. She was really here! Putting her bags down, she impatiently dabbed at her face with her hands. I can't cry with all this make-up on. I'll have streaks of mascara down to my chin.

She stopped in Macon that evening for dinner. Hannah could remember coming here with her family every year. It was on a Ferris wheel at one of those spring festivals that Mitch.e.l.l kissed her for the first time.

Jackson had never kissed her as a man in love kisses a woman. It was strange how that fact stood out. In all the time they'd been together, he kissed her fingers, her hair and her cheek, but never her lips. Was it because he knew she didn't love him? For all his practicality, Jackson was a romantic. To him, kisses shouldn't be given or taken lightly. They should mean something.

Night had fallen by the time she checked into a hotel on the outskirts of Brunswick. Less than ten miles separated her from Sophia and Jackson. Letting the curtain fall back into place, Hannah turned away from the window. Tomorrow would begin a new chapter; one she hoped would return a small measure of the peace that had eluded her for so long.

Hannah watched from her car as Jackson and Sophia emerged from the house and got into his truck. The sight of them together had a profound effect on her, filling her with both intense wonder and deep regret. The bond between father and daughter was obvious even from a distance; a relations.h.i.+p forged in the aftermath of her departure. She felt like an outsider with no place in their lives.

Even after the truck had driven away, Hannah lingered in her car. Everything had seemed so much clearer in New York. She hadn't expected to be welcomed back with open arms, but in the secret places of her heart, she hoped and believed her return could be of benefit to Sophia. Now she wasn't so sure. Granted, this was a small example on which to judge the situation, but it was enough to flood her mind with doubts. What should she do? Stalk her husband and child like a private investigator until she could convince herself that entering their life had more benefits than drawbacks?

Her position wasn't enviable. Her own choices had forced her into a place where she had no bargaining power and must rely on the generosity of a man who had no reason to believe her. Hannah was wholly dependent on the kindness and integrity of Jackson. What would she say to him? How could she explain in a way that he would understand? And if she did, would he give her a second chance? Or would he turn his back on her as she'd done on him?

One thing was certain; she wouldn't be taking any action today. As she started up the car and drove away, she wished she hadn't given in to the temptation to see them. It would have been better if she'd just contacted Jackson and let things play out from there.

With her plans in disarray, she decided to turn in her rental vehicle and buy a used car. Such a purchase would put a dent in her savings, but in light of her uncertainty regarding her next move, it was a necessity. The faded green Honda she finally settled on was a far cry from the Mercedes she'd driven in New York, but it would get her where she needed to go.

Back in the hotel room she was beginning to hate, she ate the hamburger she'd picked up and counted the money in her purse. She had enough to stay in her present location for another few days. Where she went after that was still uncertain. Shoving the wad of cash back in her wallet, she reached inside the shopping bag next to her.

She ran her hand slowly over the black leather and the s.h.i.+ny gold lettering. Opening the cover, she immediately noticed the stiffness of the pages, so different from the ones in Jackson's Bible. Perhaps in a few years, her pages would be soft and worn from use like his. For some reason that thought made her happy.

Her phone vibrated. Here was the daily text from Mitch.e.l.l. He was less upset by her leaving and more annoyed that she'd taken all her money out of their account. Ignoring his message, she turned to the book of Genesis and started to read.

Just before she fell asleep, she prayed. "Dear G.o.d, thank You for getting me here safely. Please forgive me for the terrible mistakes I've made and the pain I've caused Jackson and Sophia. For too long I've lived for myself, and it's brought me nothing but trouble. I know I can't fix the past, but from this point forward I want to be the person You want me to be. I can only do that if You help me. Amen."

Two days later she was no closer to making a decision on when to contact Jackson, but she did find a part-time job at a family-owned donut shop. The pay wasn't great, but she got all the donuts and coffee she wanted. The man who hired her met her at the back door the following morning, a cheerful smile on his face in spite of the early hour.

"Hey, Don."

"Come on in, Hannah," he said. "I'll show you where you can put your things and then we'll get started."

She followed him down a short hallway and into a tiny office. After putting her purse in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet, she trailed Don to the serving area. He handed her an ap.r.o.n and a cap adorned with the Island Donuts logo. Once she put them on, he started at one end of the counter and worked his way to the other. It didn't take long for Hannah to understand how to operate the commercial coffee makers and check-out registers. After all, she'd worked in a grocery store for three years. Just as they were finis.h.i.+ng, a woman joined them. Don put his arm around the woman's shoulders.

"Hannah, this is Connie. She also happens to be my wife. She'll be working with you this morning. If you have any questions, just ask her."

"It's nice to meet you, Connie."

The other woman clicked her long fingernails on the counter and glanced at Don with a teasing smile. "You never could resist a pretty face, could you?"

Don kissed her on the nose. "I hired you fifteen years ago, didn't I?"

"And married me two months later."

"The best thing I ever did."

"That's so sweet," Hannah said.

Connie laughed. "Like most men, he knows when to turn on the charm."

"That's my cue to leave you two girls alone. I'll go check on Jerry. He was complaining about not having enough custard or something."

After Don left, Connie explained, "Jerry is Don's brother. The two of them make everything we sell. People come from all over to buy our donuts. You'll see what I mean in about thirty minutes."

Once the early rush began, Hannah barely had time to breathe. For almost two hours the pace never slowed down. There were times when Don couldn't keep the donut bins filled fast enough. By mid-morning, there were only a few customers. Hannah made sure all the tables were clean, and the trash was picked up off the floor. In the afternoon, a tour bus pulled in. Within minutes the dining area was full again, this time with elderly couples demanding fresh coffee and varieties of donuts she'd never heard of.

By the time her s.h.i.+ft ended, Hannah's legs were on fire. Limping to the car, she dropped onto the seat and eased aching feet out of her shoes. Had she really become this soft? This is what comes from being a kept woman with no responsibilities and no purpose. A long soak in the bathtub relieved the more pressing pains, but she was too tired to eat. All she wanted was sleep.

The harsh blare of a horn in the parking lot woke her hours later. Hannah glanced at her phone and groaned. Mitch.e.l.l again! He hadn't been this attentive when she'd been with him. Sitting up, she texted him back.

Leave me alone, Mitch.e.l.l. I'm not coming to New York or anywhere else. Call one of your other girlfriends. I know you've got at least two to pick from.

I have friends that are women. You don't seem to understand the difference between that and a girlfriend which is what you are.

I am no one's girlfriend anymore.

But you're still someone's wife, aren't you? Have you contacted Jackson yet? I'm sure he'll take you back.

Leave Jackson out of this and quit pretending that you care what I do or where I go. It's a waste of time. I'm shutting off my phone now.

Don't you dare That was all she saw before the screen went black.

Walking over to the table by the window, she opened the packaged tuna sandwich she'd purchased from the convenience store next door. Her mind slipped back to the first time Jackson asked her to make tuna ca.s.serole. Strangely enough, it was one of his favorite things to eat.

She'd been working in the kitchen, but it hadn't taken long for her attention to wander from the noodles cooking on the stove to the scene taking place in the backyard. Through the window, she could see Jackson pouring water from a miniature watering can into Sophia's outstretched hands. On her face was the innocent joy that only a child can achieve. Hannah's glance moved to Jackson and the look in his eyes brought a lump to her throat.

Later when they ate dinner, he thanked her for making one of the best meals he'd ever had. It wasn't until she was was.h.i.+ng dishes that she found the can of tuna sitting on the counter. The sight of it made her cry. Jackson hadn't wanted her to feel bad so he hadn't said anything.

She walked away from a man who cared enough about her feelings to do that for a man whose definition of commitment was keeping the same vehicle for more than a year.

Chapter Seven.

Jackson was in the midst of a dream about Hannah. Rare was the night when she didn't invade his sleep. In this one, he'd come home from work to find her waiting for him. In his excitement, he reached for her. At the same moment, Mitch.e.l.l appeared behind her. He motioned to someone behind him, and Sophia moved out of the shadows. In her hand, she carried a pink suitcase. Jackson tried to stop them from leaving, but his feet wouldn't move. All he could hear was Hannah saying, "She's not your daughter," over and over.

He woke up bathed in sweat and his heart galloping as if he'd just finished running a race. Rolling over, he grabbed his phone. Six-thirty. He might as well get up and take a shower. Sophia never slept past seven.

When he walked back into his room, Sophia was sitting in the middle of the bed.

"Good morning, pumpkin. Feeling better?"

"Yes, Daddy, my ears don't hurt as much now."

"I'm glad. What can I fix you for breakfast?"

"Can I have a fried egg sandwich?"

"Sure. While I'm fixing it, you need to make your bed and get dressed. Don't forget to comb your hair."

"Okay, Daddy."

On his way to the kitchen, Jackson's phone rang. Taking it out of his pocket, he looked at the number. It wasn't anyone he knew. With a shrug, he touched the answer b.u.t.ton.

"Mr. Steadman, this is Monica Waters. I'm a nurse in the emergency room at St. Francis. I'm calling to tell you that your wife was involved in a car accident this morning."

Jackson hesitated a second and then asked, "Are you sure you have the right person? My wife isn't even in Georgia."

"The woman was identified as Hannah Steadman from a driver's license found in her purse."

It had to be a mistake. How could Hannah be here? Realizing he'd kept the woman waiting again, he said, "Is she okay? Can you tell me anything about her condition?"

"All I can tell you is that she's in surgery. Her doctor will be able to answer any questions you have once you arrive."

Thoroughly frightened now, Jackson said, "I'll be there as soon as I can." He absently set the phone on the counter and tried to think. He couldn't take Sophia with him to the hospital. Was this the weekend Colton and Laurel were going out of town? If they weren't available, he'd have to try Taryn. With a long sigh, he picked up the phone again.

"Hey, Jackson. Laurel and I were just talking about you. Are you and Sophia up for a movie later on this afternoon?"

"I would have loved that, but something's happened. I need to get to the hospital quickly. Is there any way you can watch Sophia?"

"I'll be right over to get her."

"She hasn't had breakfast."

"No problem; we'll take care of that. See you in a few minutes."

Jackson rubbed his hands over his face. He hardly knew if he was coming or going.

"Daddy, is my breakfast ready?"

He swung around to find Sophia behind him. "I haven't fixed it yet. Listen, pumpkin, I've got to leave right away. Mr. Colton is coming over to get you and take you to his house."

"When will you be back?"

"I'm not sure. Get your jacket. It's raining." As he followed her down the hallway, he heard the doorbell. "Hurry, Sophia. Mr. Colton is here."