Forever Again Page 4

  I wish I had seen it sooner? That had to be exhaustion speaking. He refused to believe he was feeling…was it regret? It couldn’t be, because walking out on that farce of a marriage was one of the smartest things he’d ever done.

  Two teenaged girls walking toward the park caught his eye. One of them was upset, frowning and making choppy gestures with her hands as she spoke. Something tugged at his subconscious, and he thought there was something very familiar about the girl. He just couldn’t place it.

  Maybe she was the daughter of one of his old school friends. She’d be about the right age. Fifteen, he guessed.

  Suddenly his mind produced the memory of a picture. It took another second to place the image. The photograph was of a young blonde woman cradling a baby on her lap. He was the baby and the woman was his mother.

  The girl and her friend drew closer and he matched her features with those in the picture. The thick blonde curls…heart-shaped face…the eyes. He saw that distinct shade of blue when he looked at his mother…or in a mirror.

  The girl’s resemblance to that picture—to himself—was too uncanny to ignore, and he stood, black raspberry ice cream dripping unnoticed onto his hand.

  Fifteen… She looked straight at him before her friend pulled her into the store, piercing him with her blue gaze. Fifteen…my mother…oh my God.

  He dropped the ice cream in the grass and started running up the hill toward the Inn.

  * * * * *

  Gena could hear Travis shouting her name before he even entered the house. He knows—somehow—he knows. She was upstairs, but she heard the loud echo of his footsteps and the slamming of doors as he looked for her.

  She was down the stairs and in her private living room when the door flew open and Travis was there. His chest heaved from anger and exertion, and Gena trembled in anticipation of his rage.

  She watched him look around, saw his gaze fall on the school portrait of Mia that hung over the sofa.

  “Who is that?” he demanded in a hoarse voice, pointing at the picture.

  Gena swallowed and lifted her chin. “That’s Mia—my daughter.”

  She saw Kristen appear behind Travis, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Travis? What’s wrong? Why are you shouting?”

  “She’s my daughter, isn’t she?”

  “What? What is going on here?” Kristen demanded, but they both ignored her.

  Gena’s hands fisted at her sides. “She’s my daughter. You left, remember?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” he shouted.

  “Having a baby was the reason we got married, or did you forget that part?” Gena yelled back in a volume that matched his.

  He was advancing slowly toward her, his face white with anger, and she backed up until she felt the seat of the rocker hit behind her knees. “You were lying. I saw the proof.”

  “No,” Gena said in a more reasonable, but no less shaky voice. “What you saw was proof that I had some spotting.”

  “Spotting?” Travis repeated, throwing his hands up. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Travis,” Kristen snapped in a voice that demanded his attention. “I want to know what you’re talking about, right now.”

  “Gena is my ex-wife.”

  “Oh, I got that part. And the child part. What I want to know is why I’m just hearing about this now.”

  “We didn’t want to ruin your weekend,” Gena explained quietly. “We thought it would be best just to go our separate ways on Sunday with nobody the wiser.”

  “We thought?” Kristen repeated. “Just what—”

  “Kristen,” Travis interrupted. “You and I can talk about this later. Right now I need to hear about my daughter.”

  My daughter. The words hit Gena like a fist in the gut, and she almost doubled over from the pain.

  Those were the words she had feared hearing those first couple of years after the divorce. The way he said it—fierce and possessive—when he had yet to even meet Mia shook her to the core.

  Her daughter would never belong solely to her again. And now that it was too late, she wasn’t sure she wanted to share.

  She watched the battle of emotions playing out across Kristen’s face. No doubt she wanted to rant and rave—demanding answers—but Travis’s expression clearly said that wouldn’t be a good idea. He was focused on one thing—his daughter.

  “Fine,” Kristen snapped. “I’m going to pack and then I’m going back to Boston. You can go to hell.”

  She spun and walked away. Travis watched her go, then ran his hands over his face and through his hair. “Spotting…what is that?”

  Gena took a deep breath, hoping some of the flame would leave her cheeks. “Just a little bleeding. Sometimes it happens in a pregnancy, especially if the woman is stressed or sick. I was both actually, but the doctor told me everything would be okay as long as I took it easy. You didn’t know I saw the doctor because I had my mother drive me.”

  Travis sat on the edge of the sofa, his head in his hands. His face was pale and she watched the muscles in his jaw work as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She knew he was talking about more than the doctor visit. “Tell you what, Travis? That—yes, I was pregnant and we were going to spend the rest of our lives the way we spent those thirteen days? With me crying and you swearing and slamming doors?”

  “Maybe it would have gotten better,” he said, but he didn’t sound as if he believed it any more than she did.

  “No. You hated me so much, Travis. And I…well, I had always wanted to be your wife, just not like that. I wasn’t any happier than you were.”

  “But after…dammit, Gena.” He looked like a man whose entire world had just blown up in his face.

  Her knees were trembling so much she was afraid she would collapse, so Gena sank into the rocking chair. “I should have told you, but I was scared.”

  “Scared of what?” Travis shouted, making an angry, sweeping gesture with his hand. “You’d already done the hard part. You confessed that you were pregnant, and our parents pushed us to get married. What could be scarier than that?”

  “I was afraid that if we got divorced after the baby came your parents would take her away. You guys had everything—more money, a better house…”

  They were silent for a few minutes, both of them trembling, and Gena close to tears. This wasn’t the way she wanted to tell him. And how would she explain this to Mia? She would think she had driven him away purposely if he left before she got to meet him.

  “Does she know about me?” he asked, and she felt a shiver of unease at the way his words mirrored her thoughts.

  “I told her last night.”

  “That’s why you were crying. She didn’t take it well?”

  Gena stared at him, confused. “You knew I was crying?”

  “I was on the porch when you got home. You didn’t see me. And the fact that I thought about comforting you at the time makes me sick right now.” He paused, shaking his head as if he was having an inner dialogue with himself. “What did she say?”

  “She thought we got divorced before I found out I was pregnant, and then I couldn’t find you.”

  “You told her that? And she believed you? But then, you always were a good liar.”

  “I didn’t lie!” she shouted. “I told you I was pregnant and I was. I didn’t ask you to walk out.”

  “You didn’t go out of your way to make me stay either, did you?” One of his hands clenched and unclenched over and over. “Back to my daughter. She believed you?”

  “She was young,” Gena explained. “But she found you somehow—on the internet, I guess—and she called your office.”

  The blood seemed to drain from Travis’s face. His blue gaze bored into her own. “She tried to call me?”

  “Your secretary wanted her name, so she panicked and hung up.”

  “She was looking for me and you still didn’t say anything? What kind of mother are you?”

  She didn’t answer right away. Be calm, she was telling herself. She had to remember Mia. “I didn’t know she was looking. It was her secret until last night.”

  He stood and started pacing the length of the room. An image of Mia doing the same superimposed itself in her mind and her throat swelled. How could her daughter be so much like this man she didn’t even know?

  “Her name is Mia? She’s fifteen?”

  “Mia Dawn Taylor,” Gena said softly. “Yes, she’s fifteen, and yes—she’s yours. Where did you see her?”

  “Downtown. I was sitting on a park bench and she was walking toward me with a friend. It took me a second to realize she looks just like my mother, and then it all clicked.”

  “The reason I told her last night was because I’d already decided to tell you. I just had to tell her first, and she asked for a little time to take it all in before I did.”

  “You’re fifteen years too late,” he snapped.

  Gena stood so she could face him eye to eye. “What difference would it have made if I had told you then? You made it perfectly clear you didn’t want us.”

  “No…I didn’t want you.” He turned and left without seeing the hurt in Gena’s eyes.

  Chapter Four

  Travis tossed his toothbrush and electric razor into the suitcase, then zipped it closed. Kristen’s luggage was already lined up at the door. She stood in the window, staring at anything but him.

  “Kristen, I didn’t know that Gena owned the Riverside Inn, and I didn’t know about Mia. If I had I would have told you. You have to believe I didn’t do this on purpose.”

  “When were you going to tell me you were married once before?” she asked without turning around.

  It was the question he had been dreading, and he didn’t have a good answer. “When the time was right, I guess.”

  “You mean when we went to get the license, right? We’ve been together four years, Travis. The right time has come and gone.”

  Travis sighed and picked up her big suitcase. “Let’s talk about this at home when we’ve both had a chance to calm down. I can’t do this right now.”

  “I don’t think we’ll do this at all,” she said quietly, grabbing the smaller suitcases. “You should have told me.”

  “It’s not something I’m proud of.”

  She pierced him with her green gaze. “From what I heard you shouldn’t be.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You found evidence your pregnant wife was bleeding and you left her?” She ran a careless hand through her usually perfect hair. “That’s not you, Travis.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then what was it like?”

  Travis set down her suitcase and started to pace. “Yes, I was drunk and stupid and had sex with her. The next thing I know she’s pregnant and our parents are dragging us into the courthouse. I didn’t even know her, and everybody kept telling me she’d done it purposely.

  “She’d had a crush on me for years. Everybody knew it, and it made sense. I was young and angry and when I saw that blood on her underwear… What the hell do I know about pregnancy? It was too easy to believe she’d not only trapped me, but lied, too. I ran like hell.”

  Kristen shook her head. “You didn’t even confront her? And what kind of backward-thinking parents force their child to get married because of a pregnancy?”

  “Ours. It’s a small town, and it was important to them. It was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. I’ve never been proud of it, Kristen, but this…I didn’t know.”

  She took a deep breath, her shoulders shuddering, and Travis reached out to comfort her. After jerking away, she picked up the smaller of her bags and started for the door. “I can’t believe you never told me about this.”

  When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand. “We’ll talk in the car, Travis. Right now we’re leaving.”

  They went through the house, nodding a goodbye to the other guests, and out to the porch. He hauled the luggage down the steps and set it next to the car. Then he froze.

  Mia stood in the driveway, her hands shoved deep in her pockets. She was just standing there—staring—and Travis knew he didn’t have to tell her who he was.

  “Hi,” was all he could think of to say, and he was aware of Kristen stiffening beside him.

  “Hi.”

  Gena stepped out onto the porch and was stopped dead in her tracks by the sight of Travis and Mia. They were so alike. In their coloring, their build—even parts of their personality, though they didn’t know it yet.

  She watched them watch each other, each searching for the right thing to say. She was tempted to step in. She should introduce them, help smooth their meeting, but she stayed on the porch. So far she’d only managed to make things worse.

  “I…I’m going back to Boston,” Travis said.

  “I can see that.”

  He wracked his brain for something—anything—to say. He spoke to teenagers all the time, but this one was different. She was his. “When I saw you downtown I came home and talked to Gena—to your mother, I mean. What a mess, huh?”

  Mia smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  Another awkward silence, broken only by the thump of the suitcases Kristen was tossing into the trunk.

  “I’m going to take Kristen home and do some juggling in the office on Monday. I’ll be back here Tuesday evening.”

  Everybody froze, and even Travis was surprised by his own words. But he meant them. “I’ll get a room near here, and maybe we can get to know each other a little. We can get a pizza or something.”

  This time the smile reached her eyes. “I’d like that. If it’s okay with Mom.”

  Gena started to speak, but Travis cut her off. “It’s not up to her. I will spend time with you as long as it’s what you want. And I won’t hesitate to get a lawyer if I need one.”

  He said the last words to Gena, and she recognized the challenge.

  Her blood ran cold as her gaze swept over the Mercedes, his designer shirt, his leather shoes. Travis Ryan appeared to have deep pockets, and Gena probably couldn’t even scrape up his pocket change. There was no doubt about who had the better lawyer.

  She could fight him and maybe win—but she would probably lose her daughter in the process. Or she could move over and let him in.

  One look into Mia’s pleading eyes made the decision for her. The girl was desperate for a father—she knew that now—and she couldn’t stand in her way. Not and live with herself later.

  “You don’t need a lawyer, Travis,” she said, trying to not let her anger show in her voice. “There’s no reason to make this any more complicated than it already is.”

  They all flinched when Kristen slammed the trunk lid down. “I’ve got to go,” Travis said to Mia.

  “Okay. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

  Mother and daughter watched the Mercedes pull out of the drive, then they moved toward each other. Without a word Gena pulled Mia into her arms and held her there, not sure if she was comforting her daughter or herself.

  “It’ll be okay, Mom,” Mia whispered. “I promise. You guys royally screwed up, but I still love you.”

  Gena laughed into her daughter’s hair. “Have I ever told you what a dream you are?”

  * * * * *

  The following few days passed in a blur for Gena. She had guests come and go. There were the usual business affairs to take care of, but a part of her mind was always on Travis Ryan.

  She kept replaying their confrontation over and over again, rethinking everything she’d said and analyzing every word he’d said, until she thought she’d go insane.

  Mia was quiet, keeping her thoughts to herself. Gena knew the worst thing she could do was smother her. They were both tense, both lost in thought, and Gena felt the weight of her guilt like a stone around her neck.

  But until Mia was ready to talk, there was nothing she could do to make it better. She wasn’t sure she could ever make it better.

  So when Jill Delaney called her before noon on Monday and asked her out to lunch, she jumped at the chance. She only had two guests—both were out for the day—and there was nothing pressing to demand her attention.

  She needed a distraction—something to take her mind off Travis Ryan. He seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her thoughts, and it was driving her crazy. A change of scenery would do her good.

  They arrived at the restaurant at the same time and grabbed a table. They both ordered coffee and decided to share a grilled chicken sandwich, but got a double order of fries.

  “So, what’s going on?” Jill asked when the waitress had taken their order and left.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play dumb. Travis Ryan was spotted eating ice cream in the park on Saturday, and you are super tense. Plus you’re snapping your fingernails together like mad.”

  Gena laughed and shook her head. “You’re pretty smart for a blonde librarian.”

  “Blonde children’s librarian, thank you, and being smart has nothing to do with it. I’m observant, and I’ve been your best friend forever. Now spill—did he see Mia?”

  Gena sighed. Jill knew everything—she always had—and she’d never told a soul. “Yeah, he did. It was bad.”

  “And Mia knows?”

  Gena told her the entire story, pausing only when the waitress brought their food, which they covered in salt, with plenty of ketchup for the fries.

  “So he’s coming back tomorrow?”

  Gena nodded and shrugged, trying to ignore the little tingle in her stomach she felt every time she thought about seeing him again.

  What’s wrong with me? The man had threatened to sic his lawyer on her, and all she could think about was how much she loved the deep timbre of his voice—how much she wanted to run her fingers through his hair to see if it still felt the same after all these years.

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