Holiday Wishes by Nora Roberts Page A
Authors: Nora Roberts
every day a man turns around and finds himself with a half-grown daughter. I feel cheated out of watching her learn to walk, hearing her talk, Faith. Nothing you can do or say can ever give that back to me, can it?”
“No.”
He turned to see her holding the brandy at waist level. Her face was very pale and calm. Whatever emotions she was feeling she managed to restrain. Yes, this was a different Faith than the one he’d left. The girl would never have been able to exert the self-control the woman did. “No excuses, Faith?”
“I guess I thought I had them, then tonight when I thought I’d lost her . . .” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “No excuses, Jason.”
“She thinks Tom’s her father.”
“No!” Her eyes weren’t calm now but brilliant. “Do you think I’d let her believe her father had deserted her, that he didn’t care enough even to write? What she knows is basically the truth. I never lied to her.”
“What is the truth?”
She took a steadying breath. When she looked at him her face was still pale but her voice was calm again. “That I loved her father, and he loved me, but he had to go away before he even knew about her and he wasn’t able to come back.”
“He would have.”
Something rushed into her eyes but she turned away. “I told her that, too.”
“Why?” The fury came back and he fought against it. “I have to know why you did what you did. I lost all those years.”
“You?” Her temper was less easily controlled than her grief. Years of holding back bubbled inside her and burst out. “ You lost?” she repeated as she whirled around. “You were gone and I was eighteen years old, pregnant and alone.”
Guilt flared. He hadn’t expected it. “I wouldn’t have left if you’d told me.”
“I didn’t know.” She put the brandy down and pushed back her hair with both hands. “It was just a week after you’d gone that I found out I was carrying our baby. I was thrilled.” With a laugh, she wrapped her arms around her chest. For a moment she looked heartbreakingly young and innocent. “I was so happy. I waited every day, every night for you to call so I could tell you.” Her eyes sobered. The smile faded. “But you never called, Jason.”
“I needed time to set things up—a steady job, a place I could ask you to live in.”
“You never understood it didn’t matter where I lived, as long as it was with you.” She shook her head before he could speak. “It doesn’t matter now. That part’s over. A week passed, then two, then a month. I got ill, just tension, morning sickness, but I began to realize you weren’t going to call. You weren’t coming back. I was angry for a while, acknowledging you just hadn’t wanted me enough. Small-town girl.”
“That’s not true. That was never true.”
She studied him a moment, almost dispassionately. The lights of the tree fell over his dark blond hair, glimmered in the deep, deep eyes that had always held their own secrets. Restlessness. “Wasn’t it?” she murmured. “It was certainly true that you wanted out. I was part of Quiet Valley and you wanted out.”
“I wanted you with me.”
“But not enough to let me go with you.” She shook her head when he started to speak. “Not enough to let me come to you until you’d proved the things you needed to prove. I didn’t always understand that, Jason, but I began to when you came back.”
“You weren’t ever going to tell me about Clara, were you?”
She heard the bitterness again and closed her eyes against it. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.”
He drank, hoping it would warm the ice in his veins. “Tell me the rest.”
“I wanted the baby, but I was scared, too scared even to tell my mother.”
She picked up the brandy again but merely warmed her hands with it. “I should have, of course, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Why did you marry Tom?” But even as he asked, he realized the old jealousies were
“No.”
He turned to see her holding the brandy at waist level. Her face was very pale and calm. Whatever emotions she was feeling she managed to restrain. Yes, this was a different Faith than the one he’d left. The girl would never have been able to exert the self-control the woman did. “No excuses, Faith?”
“I guess I thought I had them, then tonight when I thought I’d lost her . . .” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “No excuses, Jason.”
“She thinks Tom’s her father.”
“No!” Her eyes weren’t calm now but brilliant. “Do you think I’d let her believe her father had deserted her, that he didn’t care enough even to write? What she knows is basically the truth. I never lied to her.”
“What is the truth?”
She took a steadying breath. When she looked at him her face was still pale but her voice was calm again. “That I loved her father, and he loved me, but he had to go away before he even knew about her and he wasn’t able to come back.”
“He would have.”
Something rushed into her eyes but she turned away. “I told her that, too.”
“Why?” The fury came back and he fought against it. “I have to know why you did what you did. I lost all those years.”
“You?” Her temper was less easily controlled than her grief. Years of holding back bubbled inside her and burst out. “ You lost?” she repeated as she whirled around. “You were gone and I was eighteen years old, pregnant and alone.”
Guilt flared. He hadn’t expected it. “I wouldn’t have left if you’d told me.”
“I didn’t know.” She put the brandy down and pushed back her hair with both hands. “It was just a week after you’d gone that I found out I was carrying our baby. I was thrilled.” With a laugh, she wrapped her arms around her chest. For a moment she looked heartbreakingly young and innocent. “I was so happy. I waited every day, every night for you to call so I could tell you.” Her eyes sobered. The smile faded. “But you never called, Jason.”
“I needed time to set things up—a steady job, a place I could ask you to live in.”
“You never understood it didn’t matter where I lived, as long as it was with you.” She shook her head before he could speak. “It doesn’t matter now. That part’s over. A week passed, then two, then a month. I got ill, just tension, morning sickness, but I began to realize you weren’t going to call. You weren’t coming back. I was angry for a while, acknowledging you just hadn’t wanted me enough. Small-town girl.”
“That’s not true. That was never true.”
She studied him a moment, almost dispassionately. The lights of the tree fell over his dark blond hair, glimmered in the deep, deep eyes that had always held their own secrets. Restlessness. “Wasn’t it?” she murmured. “It was certainly true that you wanted out. I was part of Quiet Valley and you wanted out.”
“I wanted you with me.”
“But not enough to let me go with you.” She shook her head when he started to speak. “Not enough to let me come to you until you’d proved the things you needed to prove. I didn’t always understand that, Jason, but I began to when you came back.”
“You weren’t ever going to tell me about Clara, were you?”
She heard the bitterness again and closed her eyes against it. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.”
He drank, hoping it would warm the ice in his veins. “Tell me the rest.”
“I wanted the baby, but I was scared, too scared even to tell my mother.”
She picked up the brandy again but merely warmed her hands with it. “I should have, of course, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Why did you marry Tom?” But even as he asked, he realized the old jealousies were