Love Inspired May 2015 #2 (16 page)

Would she still go?

Lord, I need Your help here. Please ease the hurt and help me do what's right.

Please watch over Abby.

And over Violet. I haven't prayed for her through all this, and Zeb's right. She must be hurting, too.

The phone vibrated in his hand. It showed Remy's name on the screen. His heart raced as he quickly swiped his finger to answer.

“Hey. Is Abby okay?”

The baby cried in the background. “Yeah. She's fine. No fever or anything. She's just fussy.”

Hearing her cries sucked the oxygen out of him. “Do you need me to come?”

“No. I just can't remember what you told me she likes when she's fussy. I tried putting her in the baby carrier against my chest to snuggle her. Then tried holding her so she could see my face.”

“She likes to be swaddled in the striped hospital blanket. It's the only one that seems to hold her tight enough. Did you take it with you?”

“Hang on, let me check.”

Jake waited what seemed like an eternity with Abby's cries moving away from the phone, then coming back in close range. It was all he could do not to head the truck toward Atlanta to Remy's apartment.

“It's here,” she said. “Thanks, I'll give that a try.”

“Call me back if she won't calm down. She may be sick.”

“Okay.”

“I'm serious. I can drive down there in a flash.”

Remy sighed, Abby's colicky crying nearly drowning it out. “I promise you I want a happy, healthy baby, Jake. So please don't worry.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. But he couldn't get Abby's cries out of his head.

Should he file to try to take custody? Would he have any grounds to stand on? Maybe he should call an attorney in the morning.

By the time he'd arrived at his house, he'd decided to make that call. He walked inside and turned on the family room light.

His cell phone buzzed. Remy again. “Everything okay?”

“Listen,” Remy said. “Blessed quiet.”

She was right. The only thing he could hear was the sound of the blood whooshing in his ears from the fright of seeing her name on his screen again. As his heart rate returned to normal, he let out a long, silent breath. “I'm glad the blanket worked,” he said.

“Thanks for suggesting it. I knew you'd worry if I didn't call back.”

“I appreciate that. It's tough not being in control.”

“Believe me, I know. And I'll try to make the transition as easy on you as possible.”

Standing just outside the dark kitchen, he rested his head against the cool wood of the built-in cabinet. “Thanks.”

“I'm going to do this, you know. I'm going to make you believe in me.”

Tears stung his eyes. “I believed in you all along, Rem. As long as you were clean, I knew you'd come back. I just lost track of that when I fell in love with Abby, with this idea of the perfect family.”

“You wanted that ideal family we never had because I messed it up.”

Sure, he'd blamed her when he was a teen. But she hadn't had an easy road. “I guess we all got dealt some blows and did the best we could.”

“I love you, Jakey. Thanks for always looking out for me.”

His throat clenched tight and wouldn't let go. He swallowed. “I love you, too. Kiss Abby for me.”

“I will. 'Night.”

Jake slipped outside and went to sit on the old swing, where he'd spent time with Abby, trying to soothe her. Looking over at Violet's dark house, he wondered why she had jeopardized their relationship by pulling away from him and supporting Remy.

Because honestly, now that he thought back to that evening, if Violet had said nothing, the outcome would have been the same.

Why had she risked their love like that, knowing how much her betrayal would hurt him?

He should ask her. Because he needed to know, if nothing else, to have closure.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed up out of the swing and went back inside.

He wouldn't contact her yet. He'd pray about it tonight and make a decision in the morning.

Chapter Twelve

V
iolet's hand hovered over her cell phone, her fingers trembling with indecision.

She sat on the big front porch at the O'Malleys' lake house, surrounded by woods and glistening lake water, with her phone resting on the wide wooden arm of a rocking chair. She'd been rocking and thinking since she'd finished her morning coffee. For the past hour, as the sun had risen over the lake, she'd gone back and forth on whether to call Jake.

Yes, I'll do it.
For about the fourteenth time, she started to hit the call button. Yet something made her hesitate. Again.

Anger and hurt and longing all jumbled into a mess inside her, making her feel more alone than ever.

She had no one. No one who knew her inside and out.

Actually...she did.

God, it's me again. I don't know what to do.

A tired sigh slipped out.
I can't do this anymore. I can't do this all by myself. I've made a mess of every relationship in my life. I need You to take over.

She leaned her head against the chair cushion, closed her eyes and rocked, back and forth, back and forth. As the chair runners made a steady creaking sound on the wooden porch, a sense of peace washed over her. No more pretense of being in control. No trying to bend her life to fit her own will.

She needed to trust God to lead her.

The sound of tires on gravel jerked her eyes open. Who was coming down the private dirt road at this hour?

The sight of Jake's truck sent her heart into a gallop as she hopped up from the chair. She sucked in a breath and held it as he parked and got out.

He looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept since she'd last seen him. But his broad shoulders, rugged beard and piercing blue eyes still made her knees weak.

When he reached the bottom of the steps, he stopped and looked up to the porch. “Violet.”

She couldn't read anything from his guarded expression.

“Hi, Jake.”

“Can I join you?”

His soft request, the hesitancy of his words, closed her throat. She gestured to the chair beside her.

He climbed the steps and moved past her, filling the space around her with his wide shoulders and his clean, woodsy scent. Simply having him there made her feel...right, less alone.

She could barely look at him for fear she'd burst into tears. Was this an answer to her prayer? Was there still a chance for them?

He turned the other rocking chair so it faced hers. He sat and leaned his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “I figured we should talk about what happened.”

“Okay.”

“I have questions. I need to figure out where you were coming from.”

That sounded encouraging, as if maybe he was willing to listen and consider her side.

But could she trust him with all of her past? “You told me to stay out of your family business. Have you changed your mind?”

His deep blue eyes softened with regret. “I'm sorry. I was distraught over having Abby taken from me. And when you didn't jump in to back me up...well, I lashed out.”

“I understood that, but it still hurt. More than anything, I—” Tears threatened, and she blinked them away. “I wanted to feel like part of a close family. You and Abby gave me that.”

Reaching out, he brushed his work-roughened hand over hers, soothing her.

Her heart twisted. No matter what she told herself, no amount of work could make her forget Jake. Nothing could.

“I felt the same thing,” he said. “Then Remy showed up and blew our bubble of happiness to smithereens.”

“Jake—”

“No, let me finish. I don't want to cut you out of my life. But I need to know why you sided with Remy. Because if you cared for me like I thought you did, you wouldn't have hurt me that way.”

“Jake...”

He held up a hand. “I think there's more going on, and it's time you trust me enough to tell me.”

If she had any hope of a relationship with Jake, she had to tell him, tell him everything. So he'd understand.

* * *

Jake studied Violet's beautiful, troubled eyes.

He took her hand in his and sat knee to knee, encouraging her. “Tell me. From the beginning.”

She intertwined her fingers with his, gripping his hand firmly. “All my life, I'd planned to be a doctor. From the time I got my first toy medical kit, I wanted to be a surgeon like my dad, to make him proud.”

“I didn't realize he's a doctor, too.”

She nodded. “He and mom were prominent in the community. Had high expectations for their only child. And I wanted to be that girl—that perfect girl, with perfect grades, making a name for herself, saving the world.”

“Looks like you did that.” As soon as the words left his mouth, pain flashed in her eyes.

Then he knew her life hadn't gone as her parents had planned.

“When I was a senior in high school, I...I got pregnant.”

He sucked in a breath. “Oh, man.”

An ironic laugh puffed out of her. “I'd been such a good girl. But the older I got, the more pressured I felt to live up to my parents' expectations. I decided I wanted to have some fun.”

“Let me guess. You went for the bad boy.”

“Not so much that. He was just...intense. Gave one hundred and ten percent in everything he did—including relationships. He was fun and attentive, was wildly popular, made me feel beautiful and desirable. We were this perfect couple, and I thrived on that new, exciting reputation.

“As we applied to colleges and talked of the future, he told me he needed to know I was committed to him. And needed to know I really loved him. Despite my upbringing and beliefs, I fell for that line. I thought, finally, I had control over some part of my life my parents couldn't touch, and I made a stupid choice.”

She sighed and tried to let go of his hand, but he held on.

“It was so clichéd,” she said. “We were together one time, and I became pregnant. He freaked and dumped me, claiming the child wasn't his. Which was such a joke. Not one person believed him.”

“Violet, I'm so sorry.”

“Apparently, he couldn't do one hundred and ten percent on fatherhood.” She laughed, but it held no humor.

“So I had to tell my parents, who didn't react well. They then went into protect-the-family-name mode.”

Jake pulled their clasped hands to his chest, offering support.

“They were horrified. Ashamed. Right after graduation, they whisked me off to my aunt and uncle's house in Alabama to try to cut down on gossip because by then I was showing. The next thing I knew, they had found this really nice, childless couple eager to adopt.”

“So you decided to give up the baby?”

She gazed into his eyes, and the pain he saw there squeezed the air out of his lungs.

“I wanted to keep him. Once I could feel my baby moving, I imagined keeping him, my parents helping me raise him.”

“Obviously, they didn't allow that.”

“They told me I was being ridiculous, that I couldn't support a baby on my own. That I would never achieve my dream of being a surgeon. I begged them to help me. I told them I would go to college locally. Then we could figure out medical school later.”

Tears pooled at the edges of her eyes, wetting her eyelashes, making them dark and spiky. He wanted to hug her, hold her, tell her he wished he could take the pain away. Yet he knew she needed to share it, so he would finally, truly know her.

He wiped a thumb under her eyes to brush away the tears. “Go on.”

“They refused to help raise the baby or to even help financially. Said if I kept the child, they would cut me off. My aunt and uncle sided with my parents. My grandparents wanted to help but wouldn't go against my parents.”

“So you were on your own.”

“Yes. And I was afraid I couldn't do it.”

“You were a kid yourself, Violet. It would have been nearly impossible to raise a child, attend college and medical school and support yourself financially.”

“But I wish I had,” she whispered.

The tears broke loose and poured down her cheeks, bringing him to his feet. He wrapped her into his arms and let her cry against his chest.

She poured out her hurt, wetting his shirt. When the crying stopped, she went inside for a tissue. He followed her and pulled her beside him on the couch.

She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“I usually keep a tighter rein on my emotions.”

“I'm glad you told me.” He scooted closer so he could touch her. Holding on to her hands, he gave her a gentle smile. “So the baby was a boy?”

“Yes. I never got to hold him. But I've always imagined cradling him in my arms, smelling his unique baby scent.”

“And you ended up going into pediatrics.”

“Yeah. Once I had the baby, I left Alabama and went straight to college. Cut off all communication with my parents. Refused to let them control another minute of my life.”

“I'm sorry you experienced all that pain.”

“I've never gotten over giving him up. Never gotten over the guilt of putting my selfish ambition before him. Never gotten over being so weak I let them make the decision.”

“You were barely eighteen. I think they probably should have made the decision for you.”

“Though I know in my head it was probably best for my son, I still wish I'd been brave enough to step out on my own to raise him. Like you jumped in to take care of Abby despite your inexperience. You did the honorable thing.”

Jake threw his hand up in protest. “Whoa, don't say that. Violet, your act of giving up your son to a loving home was just as honorable. If raising a child had kept you from finishing medical school, you wouldn't be helping so many children today.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for saying that. After watching you struggle caring for Abby, I can see how difficult it would have been. Just like it's been difficult for Remy.”

“And that's why you sided with her.”

Leaning back, she gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. She'd proven she was ready to care for Abby. I think she deserves at least a chance if she wants it.” Her brow furrowed.

“What is it?”

“I actually think—”

He brushed a hair back from her face. “Go ahead. I want to know.”

“Maybe my opinion is colored by my experience. But I think you should ask your cousin to move back to Appleton and offer to help with Abby while Remy finishes school and gets a job. She could use family nearby to support her.”

The idea settled inside him like two perfectly dovetailed joints. “You're one smart woman, Violet Crenshaw.”

A smile slowly bloomed on her face. “I try to be.”

“You know, I think your parents loved you and did what they thought best at the time. Maybe it's time to respond to their calls. Time to rebuild that relationship, so you'll have more support.”

Resignation—and possibly determination—sparked in her eyes. “You're pretty smart yourself, Jake West.”

“So that's a yes?”

“That's a maybe...leaning toward a yes. I've had their phone number pulled up on my phone off and on all week. I just couldn't quite hit Call.”

“I believe you can do it. And
need
to do it to fully heal.”

She blinked at moisture in her eyes. “Maybe now that I've dumped it all on you, I can move forward and learn to forgive.”

“I'm proud of you, proud of how you've overcome a painful past. And I understand why you spoke up for Remy.” Jake was quickly falling for this brave, strong woman. A woman who was kind and fair and generous, even though she had been through so much.

He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “I've missed you like crazy.”

“I've missed you, too.”

He glanced at her rosy, full lips and slowly—

She gasped. “Wait.” Hopping up, she hurried outside. A moment later, the car door slammed. Then she reappeared inside.

Her face full of joy, she set a gift wrapped in bright blue-and-green-striped paper in his lap. “Happy birthday.”

“A present for me?”

“Open it.”

As he ran his finger carefully under the tape, trying not to tear the paper, she leaned toward him, eyes sparkling, hands clasped in front of her as if dying to help. Her childlike excitement was contagious.

He could imagine her at Christmas. “As a child, you ripped off the wrapping paper and tossed it aside, making quick work of all your presents, didn't you?”

“How'd you know?”

“Because it's about to kill you that I'm taking so long.”

Her laugh was like music to his ears. “You know me too well. Now, can you, just this once, live dangerously and tear it right off?”

Yes, he finally knew her fully. And he liked everything about her.

With a quick yank, he tore off the paper. He drew in a breath. She'd given him a photo album filled with photos of Abby. Photos Violet had taken of him with Abby. Photos he'd taken of Violet with Abby. A photo Chloe had taken of the three of them at church.

He ran his fingers over a photo of Abby sleeping, sucking her thumb. “When did you put all this together?”

“Last Sunday night after I found out the date of your birthday.”

“What if I hadn't shown up today?”

Large, sad eyes gazed into his. “I was going to keep it.”

He placed the book on the coffee table. Then he ran his hands through her hair and cupped her cheeks. “Being with you has made this the best birthday ever.”

When his lips touched hers, he once again savored the sense of belonging he'd longed for his whole life. He loved Violet and wanted a life with her.

But one fear nagged at the back of his mind, preventing him from saying the words. If Violet couldn't mend the relationship with her parents, would his love be enough? Would she ever heal enough to return his love?