Saving Sara (Redemption #1) Page 24

  Uneasy, she busied herself getting out the bowls and spoons, trying not to remember how she used to do the same for Lucy and how much her little girl had adored anything strawberry flavored.

  She was sure Olly had said he wanted chocolate sprinkles on his ice cream, but she wondered if he’d want that if he knew all she had in the freezer was strawberry.

  “Olly, do you still want chocolate sprinkles on strawberry ice cream or do you prefer it plain?”

  Olly didn’t answer and she shook her head. What was it with kids and TV? Or any electronic device, for that matter, that sapped their focus.

  “Olly? Did you hear me?” She yelled louder this time but silence greeted her.

  Ignoring a twinge of apprehension, she huffed out an exasperated breath and marched back to the living room.

  To find Olly gone.

  “Olly?” Trying to keep her tone steady, she glanced around the room, like he’d miraculously appear.

  Mentally chastising herself for being foolish, she walked down the hallway toward the bathroom. “You in there, Olly?”

  The lights were off.

  Hell.

  “Olly, where are you?” She ran from room to room, her panic rising as she searched to no avail.

  By the time she’d scoured the whole house, her heart was pounding so loudly she could hardly hear herself think.

  Then she spied the front door. It was closed but unlocked, and she froze, a thousand horrific scenarios flashing through her head.

  No one locked their doors in Redemption. But she hadn’t been able to break the habit since arriving here. Which meant either she’d forgotten to lock the door after Jake and Olly had arrived . . .

  Or Olly had unlocked it and snuck out.

  Chills racked her body and she started to shake. Logically, she would’ve heard him unlock the door, open it and close it behind him. But all logic had fled and she was now in full-blown panic mode.

  Dragging in deep breaths, she gave it one last shot.

  “Olly, if you’re here, you need to come out now!” She bellowed. “Otherwise you’ll be banned from TV and treats for a month.”

  An empty threat she wouldn’t have any control over, but sometimes kids reacted to threats when they wouldn’t listen to reason. Not the best parenting, but when desperate, moms used what they could.

  She heard a scuffling sound behind her and spun around, sagging against the wall in relief when she spied Olly crawling out from a wicker basket that Gran used to store wool in.

  “I don’t want to be banned,” he said, managing to look fearful and contrite at the same time. “I used to play that hiding game with Mom and she’d pretend she couldn’t find me and I’d be really quiet like a mouse, then I’d leap out and surprise her.” Olly wrinkled his nose. “Only it didn’t sound like you wanted to be surprised.”

  Tears burned Sara’s eyes but she willed them away. Crying in front of Olly would only scare him and she didn’t want to taint a game he obviously liked playing with Rose.

  But he’d taken ten years off her life and she had to say something.

  “I didn’t know you were playing a game, Olly, so you scared me.”

  “Sorry, Sara.” Downcast, he stared at his feet, biting his bottom lip.

  “It’s okay,” she said. Her legs finally felt strong enough to move, and she crossed the room to squat in front of him. “Maybe you save that game to play with your mom, okay?”

  He nodded and raised his head. “Can I still have ice cream?”

  “You bet.” She ruffled his hair and he bolted toward the kitchen, the incident forgotten.

  If only it were that easy for her.

  As Sara switched off the TV and followed at a more sedate pace, she knew she’d received the wakeup call she needed.

  She couldn’t do this anymore.

  Couldn’t pretend like she was okay entering into a potential relationship with a man, no matter how incredible he was.

  Because those few moments when she couldn’t find Olly had reinforced why she could never have kids again.

  She couldn’t go through that kind of panic, that mind-altering dread when something happened to a child under her care.

  She couldn’t be a mother, ever again. She couldn’t risk losing another child.

  It had almost killed her when Lucy died; she could never go through it again.

  And that meant ending things with Jake now, before they got in any deeper.

  Jake found them a few minutes later, adding sugary toppings to strawberry ice cream, but Sara could barely look at him as he came through the door.

  Intuitive as ever, Jake put the milk into the fridge and came to stand close, his hand resting in the small of her back. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” She brandished the toppings in her hands. “Sprinkles or chocolate?”

  He ducked to whisper in her ear. “You’re sweeter than any of that stuff so can I have you?”

  She forced a laugh and squirmed away. “There are children present.”

  “When there’s ice cream in front of Olly, he wouldn’t hear an explosion.” Jake paused then and scrutinized her closely. “You sure everything’s okay? Did something happen when I was next door?”

  “Everything’s fine.”

  But it wasn’t, and Sara counted down the next thirty minutes until they finished dessert and Jake had to take Olly home. Cilla had texted him and said she wouldn’t be home tonight, for which Sara was doubly thankful. It meant Jake couldn’t come back over to her place and that, hopefully, Cilla and Bryce had resolved their differences.

  Thanks to Olly’s presence as they said goodbye, Jake couldn’t interrogate her either.

  It was for the best. She needed some time to think. Time to devise a way to extricate herself from this relationship before she got in too deep.

  As she trudged upstairs to draw a bath, she ignored her voice of reason, which insisted it was way too late. She wasn’t just in too deep with Jake; she was in so deep she was drowning.

  38.

  Jake was nursing his second coffee the next morning when Cilla breezed through the back door, wearing yesterday’s clothes and a grin that took ten years off.

  “About time you did the walk of shame,” he said, raising his coffee mug in a toast.

  “Hush now,” she said, her laugh soft and melodic. “I’ll have none of your smart comebacks, you hear?”

  He chuckled and pushed out the chair opposite with his foot. “Sit. I’ll get you a coffee.”

  “I’ve already eaten,” she said, and blushed. “Bryce made me breakfast.”

  “So you and the doc are back on speaking terms?” he deadpanned, well aware the glow his aunt sported attested to more than a late night chat with the doc. “Good for you.”

  “Bryce is a good man,” she said, her blush intensifying. “I may have misjudged him.”

  “It’s good to see you so happy,” he said, meaning it. If anyone deserved happiness, his aunt did. “But please let me know if you’re planning any shenanigans around here so Olly and I can make ourselves scarce.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Her glower hardly packed a punch when it was accompanied by a satisfied smirk. “How was dinner at Sara’s last night?”

  “Good.” At least, it had been until he’d popped back here to grab Olly’s favorite strawberry milk.

  When he’d got back to Sara’s, she had been tense and jumpy, at complete odds with the woman he’d spent the last week with. He’d tried to pry the information out of Olly when they’d got home, but in typical distracted six-year-old fashion, Olly had been more intent on getting his bedtime story read than discussing what he’d talked about with Sara.

  He’d wanted to call her but he knew she could fob him off too easily over the phone, so he’d bided his time until now.

  “Your dour expression says otherwise.” Cilla sat opposite him. “Did something happen?”

  “Not that I know of, but toward the end of the evening she became fidgety and e
dgy, like something was wrong.”

  Cilla hesitated. “You don’t think you’ve been spending too much time together?”

  He shook his head. “She’s been happy the last week. We both have. I left her alone with Olly for a few minutes and when I came back she was different.”

  Cilla frowned. “She’s been at ease with Olly for ages now, so it’s not that.”

  “I know, but it must be something.”

  Damned if he knew what it was, despite mulling all night.

  “Why don’t you ask her?” Concern clouded Cilla’s eyes. “I’m not sure if this is relevant, but I saw her packing her car with what looked like an overnight case as I was driving up.”

  “Crap.” Jake stood and headed for the door. “Can you watch Olly for a few minutes?”

  She nodded. “Take your time.”

  Apparently Jake didn’t have much time, though: as he sprinted along Cilla’s driveway, he saw Sara locking up. He vaulted the hedge between their driveways and jogged toward her, belatedly realizing he looked like a desperate lunatic when she stared at him in surprise.

  “You’re leaving?” Not his best opening. Her lips compressed into a thin, unimpressed line.

  “Heading back to the city for a few days,” she said, annoyingly unflappable as she opened the driver’s door and leaned down to fling her handbag inside. “Scouting a few galleries that are interested in showing my pyrography pieces. I emailed them pictures a while back.”

  “You never mentioned it,” he said, icy dread making him numb. They’d talked a lot over the last week and not once had she mentioned the possibility of her work taking her back to New York City.

  He felt like a chump, when all he’d been thinking about was ways he could viably stay in Redemption and make their relationship work.

  “It’s something I’ve been toying with.” She shrugged. “Worth testing the waters to see how I go.”

  “Yeah,” he said, because what else could he say without sounding churlish? “Hope it goes well.”

  “Thanks.” She made a grand show of looking at her watch. “I’m running late, so I’d better go.”

  “Just like that,” he said, unable to keep the rancor from his tone.

  She flinched a little, which he took as a good sign. Meant she wasn’t totally indifferent to what they had, no matter how much she was trying to prove otherwise.

  “Listen, Jake, this isn’t the time or place to have this conversation, but I can’t do this.”

  His blood chilled. “Do what?”

  “Have a full-blown relationship. The kind of relationship that ends in commitment and kids and the works.” She tapped her chest. “I’m not cut out for that anymore. I can’t do it. And it’s not fair on you for me to pretend otherwise.”

  “Whoa.” He held up his hands. “You’re jumping way ahead. Why can’t we just have fun for a while?”

  Her mouth drooped. “Because we both know we’re beyond fun already.”

  He had no comeback for that because dammit, she was right. What they had far surpassed what he’d had with any other woman and he didn’t want to give it up.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Jake, and I’m scared that’s what will ultimately happen if we keep dating.” She took a deep breath and blew it out again before continuing. “Let’s cool it for a while and stay friends, okay?”

  It wasn’t okay, not by a long shot. But he couldn’t think of one damn thing to say to change her mind.

  So he stood there like a dummy and watched the woman he loved drive away.

  39.

  Sara spent the next ten days in New York City, visiting galleries and talking up her work. A few showed interest; most dismissed her as a kooky artist who burned wood for a living.

  She didn’t care. She already had her heart set on running art classes in Redemption and the knock-backs didn’t sting as much as she’d expected. What did sting were Jake’s emails and texts and phone messages.

  She screened all her calls. Listened to the messages he left with a heavy heart. But his emails got to her the most. Brief yet chatty, they painted a picture of life in Redemption that she knew intimately and missed. Dish of the day at the diner. Funny anecdotes about Olly. Updates about Cilla and Bryce’s burgeoning romance.

  It made her ache with longing. It also made her wonder if she’d had anything with Jake beyond the illusion of happy families.

  Because that’s what they’d done for that amazing week together—play happy families. They’d spent seven perfect days that encapsulated a summer vacation: swimming at the town pool, afternoons in the park, bike riding, roller-skating, picnics and lying on a blanket reading in the backyard.

  It had been idyllic and special and too good to be true. As she knew all too well, when everything seemed perfect, it was an illusion and inevitably ended.

  Sadly, another side effect of breaking up with Jake seemed to be a return to insomnia. Though this time around, she didn’t cry herself to sleep from missing her child; she tossed and turned, missing the warmth of Jake’s big, strong body wrapped around hers.

  The boutique hotel apartment had lost its appeal too. She missed Gran’s house. Missed the large kitchen and comfy bed and sprawling backyard. She missed her pyrography tools most of all.

  She had to go back. Just one more day . . .

  Cilla had told her tomorrow would be the day Rose came out of rehab and Jake would take Olly back to her.

  That meant Jake would leave Redemption for good.

  And she could start the arduous task of forgetting him and Olly and how they’d helped bring her back to life.

  On a deeper level that she’d never acknowledge, she’d miss them the most. She’d grown used to hearing Olly’s belly laughs, his amusingly blunt comments, his infectious giggles. She’d enjoyed Jake’s company; the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the special way he had of staring at her, his deliberate flirtation.

  Jake had awakened her body in ways she’d never imagined and Olly had made her secretly yearn for a child’s innocence again.

  Once they left, she needed to put both behind her.

  Jake would soon give up pestering her when she maintained her silence, and would move on. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to see him again. Much easier to remain distant when she didn’t have a sexy guy trying to persuade her in person.

  Yes, tomorrow would be the day. Jake would be out of her life and she’d return to Redemption.

  In the meantime, another twenty-four hours stretched before her in which she’d battle to forget the man who’d stolen her heart without trying.

  40.

  Jake had been a madman the last ten days. Grouchy. Irrational. Touchy. Until Cilla had sat him down and made him see sense.

  He’d ranted against Sara when she hadn’t returned his emails or texts or calls. Had said maybe Olly had been the real attraction between them; that he’d been an adjunct to her desperate need to make up for her lost child. He hadn’t told her about Rose possibly coming to live in Redemption, so as far as Sara knew Olly’s departure was imminent, and her fleeing to New York City proved that theory.

  Cilla had called him a few choice names for his outlandish speculation and told him to wake up to the truth.

  Sara had lost everything. Her child. Her husband. Her home. Her job. Her previous life.

  She’d found acceptance and permanency in Redemption.

  But when Olly left, Jake probably wouldn’t be part of that permanence. Sara would assume he’d leave. And that could be why she was ending it before it had begun.

  When Cilla laid it out like that, it all seemed so simple.

  So Jake set about proving to Sara that he was in this for the long haul. Which was why he’d hightailed it to New York City and now waited at her front door, rocking on the balls of his feet, resisting the urge to constantly check the documents in his jacket pocket.

  She’d already buzzed him into the apartment building so he hadn’t wasted his time in turning up.

 
Now he needed to convince her that the place they both belonged, together, was Redemption.

  She took her time answering the door and when it opened, he struggled not to bundle her into his arms.

  “What are you doing here?” No greeting and she hung on the door, keeping it half closed. Not so glad to see him obviously. Hopefully, he could change that.

  “We need to talk.” And he wouldn’t stop until he’d convinced her they belonged together. “Can I come in?”

  She hesitated, and for the first time since he’d arrived, his confidence plummeted. The conversation they had to have wouldn’t pack the same punch while he was standing on a doorstep.

  “I’m heading out soon, so you haven’t got long.” She opened the door wider and stepped aside.

  “It won’t take long.”

  He entered the small studio apartment and had a flashback to the first time he’d entered his. He’d loved living in New York City, loved the buzz and the vibe. It had been a far cry from his upbringing in that pokey house with Rose and his father. He’d reveled in the freedom.

  But after the accident, his apartment had become a prison. Dreary. Confining. Depressing. It hadn’t been until the last few months in Redemption that he’d realized how much he’d needed to escape. Now, with what he’d done to prove his commitment to Sara, he hoped he’d be sticking around Redemption for a long time.

  “Do you want something to drink? A soda?” She perched on the back of a small sofa, looking like she’d rather be anywhere other than here.

  “You don’t need to play hostess for me,” he said, stopping two feet in front of her. “I just want to talk.”

  If his proximity bothered her she didn’t show it, apart from a telltale sharp intake of breath that she released slowly.

  “I thought we’d already said everything that needed to be said.” She eyeballed him, daring him to disagree.

  “Actually, you spoke, I listened last time. Didn’t mean I agreed with any of it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the documents. “I get it. You were running scared. You think a relationship will lead to marriage and kids and that terrifies you because of what you went through with Lucy.”