A Town Called Valentine: A Valentine Valley Novel (28 page)

She smiled. “Not everybody can see the future like you can. And as for keeping things private—I like that about you. My ex would donate to charities and make sure his name was prominent every time. I blinded myself to a lot of things about him, rushed into marriage without considering the important stuff. But I’m older and wiser now.”

He looked at her with a poignant sadness that made her turn away.

“You were right about my biological father affecting me,” he said at last in a quiet voice. “He left my mom when she was ill, but the worst of it was, he cleaned out every bank account and used up the credit cards before he left.”

Emily couldn’t hold back a gasp. “Oh Nate.” She imagined Sandy as a young abandoned mom with a frightened little boy, no money to buy food or pay the bills. “Your mother is such a brave woman. But your own wariness about people makes so much more sense.”

He stared at her in surprise, then bit by bit, tension seemed to leak away from him, as if her words had answered questions he’d never known he had.

“You know, we have something in common,” she continued, picking at the label on her beer bottle. “Your first dad left your mom because she was ill. Greg left me because I couldn’t have children.”

She didn’t look at him, afraid she’d burst into tears. When he put an arm around her, pulling her against his warm, solid side, to her surprise, she didn’t feel as devastated as she once had.

The words just started tumbling out of her. “I could get pregnant, you see, though it took a long time. But then I’d have a miscarriage, two or three months in.”

“Oh, Emily,” he said raggedly.

“My third pregnancy went much farther, but then in my seventh month, the baby died. The doctor said I’d be unlikely to ever have children.” She swallowed hard but didn’t look at him. “When I came home from the hospital, Greg said he wanted his own children, that he didn’t want to adopt. So he left me.”

And then Nate pulled her into his arms, and she clung to him, but her eyes were dry, her emotions full of sadness but also a rising determination. She pulled away to look into his eyes.

“So you can see why I plan to adopt. I want a family, and biology doesn’t matter to me. Greg was an ass, and if we’d shared any kind of true love, he couldn’t have treated me that way. But we matched so well, wanted the same sort of traditional life. I let that blind me to the kind of man he really was, let myself make excuses when I sensed he might not measure up.”

Nate still looked at her as if she might crumble to pieces any moment, and he wanted to be her rock.

She smiled tremulously and cupped his face with one hand. “It’s okay,” she insisted. “The worst of the betrayal is past me now. Trust me, anger has a way of pushing out the grief. It was bad at first—I almost lost myself in depression, never leaving my bed for days. I feel like such a fool now. I let him make me feel like less than a woman because I couldn’t give birth. You’ll really think I’m an idiot when I tell you I refused Greg’s guilt money, wanting no connection to him.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot.” Nate touched her hair, her shoulder, her hand, as if he couldn’t stop.

“It didn’t work for me, Nate. Marriage, I mean. You’re telling me deeply private things, and I’m doing the same for you, but . . . I don’t think of myself as anyone’s potential wife. I stand on my own now.”

Chapter Twenty-four

N
ate was as startled as if she’d slapped him. They’d been confiding their secrets; he’d never felt so close to a woman, wanted so much just to be with her and love her and make her happy for the rest of their lives. But she didn’t want the same. He shouldn’t be so surprised. She’d been up-front with her intentions—just as he had, he thought wryly. But he thought things had changed between them, deepened. They had—he couldn’t mistake that. But whereas he accepted it, anticipated a future they could share, she was putting on the brakes. She’d suffered a betrayal at the lowest moment in her life, when the promise of a new little baby had died. And he didn’t know what to do, what to say, to prove himself. Or if she was even ready to hear it.

“I hope you’re not implying that every man is as stupid as your ex-husband,” he finally said. “Most of us are glad to adopt—I owe my life to such a man.”

“I know that.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes; he could feel her retreating bit by bit, as if she feared she’d said too much and wished she hadn’t. He didn’t want her to regret confiding in him, didn’t want to make everything worse by pleading with her to look at him for the man he was, not in the shadow of her ex-husband.

But he knew she was afraid of being hurt again, by him and her new father and his family. And she would leave him, leave Valentine, rather than risk such betrayal again.

“I’m sorry to be so blunt,” Emily whispered at last. She studied his face with earnest worry. “Maybe I never should have said—”

“No.” He took her shoulders in his hands. “I want to know everything about you. Believe me, I’m grateful for your trust.” He wanted to tell her he loved her, that he always would, that he’d never do anything to harm her—but she didn’t want to hear it, and he felt bewildered and battered trying to think of a way to change her mind.

“You probably want to go now,” she said, a touch of forlorn trembling in her voice.

“No, I don’t. I want to be here with you. We don’t have to say anything more. It will be enough for me.”

She settled against him with a sigh, tucking her head beneath his chin, curling her knees up until they rested across his thighs.

He was lying to himself, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted more. He wanted everything with Emily. If he told her how he felt, she’d just think he was trying to fix everything like usual. He’d spent his life making things happen, but he couldn’t force her to love him.

J
oe’s wife, Faith, called Emily the next morning and invited her to dinner that night. Emily thought the woman sounded a bit too cheerful but was glad Faith was trying. For a moment, Emily almost refused, feeling overwhelmed at the thought of them all staring at each other around a table. There would be expectations none of them—including herself—might be able to meet.

But then she thought of Nate, and his concern, and the tenderness in his eyes he no longer hid from her. He’d want to see her tonight, and she wasn’t certain that was a good idea for either of them. They’d gotten too close, and she was still leaving. After everything she’d revealed to him, she was surprised he hadn’t fled from her apartment and her past and all the ways he thought he could fix her. It would be just like him to try hard to make everything better. She was grateful he hadn’t.

So she accepted Faith’s offer, hoping to make Joe happy, for he’d been just as wounded as Emily had by Delilah’s lies.

Their ranch home was larger than the Thalbergs’, but there the similarities ended. Everywhere were touches of the bohemian lifestyle Nate had hinted at, from tarot cards on a table to crystals hung in every window. Faith must be a patron at the Mystic Connection, the new age store in town. The paintings on the walls were medieval or mystical or brimming with abundant nature: flowers, waterfalls, or mysterious forests. Emily saw a cluttered office as she followed Joe and Faith down a hall into the living room, books scattered around a computer, and she remembered Nate’s mentioning that Joe liked to write.

Faith wore a gauzy multicolored, loose gown, her frizzy silver-streaked black hair pulled back from her freshly washed face. Emily found herself charmed by the woman’s forthright manner. As she led Emily into the living room, she gestured to her children with pride, and they all stood up, as if Emily were a business client. She felt hot with embarrassment and nerves.

Three young men—Emily’s brothers—stood around their sister, almost as if she needed protection.

“Emily,” Joe said, “these are our children, Will, Chris, Daniel, and Stephanie.”

Stephanie was a pretty girl, with her father’s crystal blue eyes and bright blond hair that she wore in a ponytail. Suspicion and wariness twisted her expressive face, and Emily’s hopes began to sink. Joe had said he’d told his children about her, but he’d never explained how badly Stephanie must have taken it. Emily had made a terrible mistake coming so soon, but it was too late to change it. Stephanie looked as pale as winter frost.

Emily’s tension had coalesced into a little ball of pain in her stomach, and she was certain she wouldn’t be able to eat anything. Her very existence had caused this poor girl grief. She was tempted to leave but knew that would make it seem as if she had been chased away.

Thankfully, the three young men eyed her curiously but without dismay. Will was taller and broader than his dad, with sandy blond hair, frank, hazel eyes, and a cleft in his chin centered in a square jaw. Chris’s hair was lighter, as were his pale blue eyes. He was built more like his dad, leaner and compact, though with the same chin as his brother. Daniel, still in college, had inherited his mother’s darker hair and gray eyes. He sported several tattoos on his arms and wore a silver stud beneath his lower lip. But his smile was curious and friendly as he nodded a greeting.

All three men could have been just as suspicious as Stephanie, upset that their lives had been disrupted by an old secret, but one by one they shook her hand and gave her a polite, even curious, smile, which she returned though her lips trembled. These were her brothers. She didn’t know what to think, but she wanted to be happier rather than so nervous and uncertain.

Will and Chris must have realized her mood, because they shared a look before Will said, “So you’re my big sister.”

Emily gave him a faint smile.

“How sad for you, Will, that you’ve lost all your ‘oldest child’ privileges,” Chris said dryly.

Emily actually chuckled, and she almost covered her mouth with surprise.

“What privileges?” Will demanded indignantly. “I had to babysit you.”

Will’s good-natured disgruntled look encompassed both his brothers and sister. Stephanie’s lips twitched as if she fought a smile. Then she looked at Emily, and her eyes went cool again. Emily sighed. She wished she could join in the bantering, but words stuck in her throat, and her chest felt tight with unshed tears. Staring at their faces as they teased each other, she wondered what it would have been like if she’d known them as children. She was a sister, but a stranger. It seemed so insurmountable to ever be more.

They were her family now, but it felt all wrong. She’d longed for this her whole life, but how could only occasional visits back to Valentine mold them into the close family she’d dreamed of? Was she making a mistake in leaving?

“Kids,” Faith said, obviously assessing Stephanie’s mood—and perhaps Emily’s—“come finish helping me in the kitchen so your dad and Emily can talk.”

Stephanie glared at Emily over her shoulder as she followed her brothers out. She caught her dad’s frown and looked guilty, hunching her shoulders.

When they were alone, Joe said, “I’m so sorry about Stephanie’s behavior.”

Her eyes went wide. “No, oh please, this isn’t her fault.”

“I guess I should have told you she was having a hard time with my past,” he said solemnly. “But . . . I didn’t want you to misunderstand. This really isn’t about you but about me. Guess I’m not her perfect father, you know? She always thought of herself as Daddy’s little girl.”

Emily didn’t know what to say as she stood there awkwardly in the middle of their living room.

“I feel badly that you have to go through this. I wish—well, I could wish for a lot of things, but the past is the past, and we can only live for the future.”

Emily couldn’t help wondering what he wished for—that he’d never slept with her mother? That she’d never been born? Or should she give him the benefit of the doubt and hope he meant he wished he’d known about her all along?

“I don’t know how to say this, so bear with me.” Joe put both his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve thought a lot about the renovations you’ve been doing, how hard you’re working on your future.” He smiled at her, but there was uncertainty in his eyes. “I haven’t been able to help you grow up, and it really makes me sad. Could I—would you let me help you now? I know you have plans to go to college, and I’ve helped my sons with their tuition. Would you let me do the same for you?”

Emily was surprised and confused, but she managed a smile. “Joe, that is such a nice offer, but I can’t accept.”

“Emily—”

“No, please, I understand that you just want to help, but it would make me feel like I searched for you only for money, instead of the truth.”

“I wouldn’t think that.”

“Maybe not, but I would. There’s no guilt here, nothing to make up for. None of this was our fault. I thank you so much for the offer, but I just can’t accept.”

He studied her face for a moment before nodding, and Emily let out her breath.

“You’ve gotten your way right now, young lady,” Joe said with mock sternness. “But we might revisit this subject in the future.”

She laughed, feeling some of her discomfort ease. “We’ll see.”

To her surprise, he smiled at her with a tenderness that made her heart ache. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I’ve been wanting to do that,” he whispered. “My daughter.”

Feeling moved and choked up, she watched as he laughed at himself and turned away to wipe his eyes.

These people were strangers, but they were family, too, people she’d be connected to for the rest of her life. She knew she was lucky, that another family might keep her on the outside, an unwelcome surprise. But Joe obviously cared about her. It was a good start.

The doorbell rang, and Joe went to get it, returning with Nate. Emily couldn’t even be surprised.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, handing over a bottle of wine to Faith, who came out of the kitchen to greet him, wearing an affectionate smile.

The four younger Sweets followed their mom, and it was obvious by their grins that they all knew Nate well. Emily felt better already—Nate to the rescue, she thought, biting her lip against a smile. His instincts were good, and she was grateful.

Nate kissed Faith’s cheek, shook hands with all three young men, hugged Stephanie, then Emily. He stood at her side like they belonged together.

Emily arched a brow at Joe, who spread his hands wide, as if saying Nate’s arrival wasn’t his suggestion. Perhaps Faith was just as interested in matchmaking as she was in meeting Emily. Faith and Grandma Thalberg must know each other.

Emily knew that everyone saw them as a couple, and the hurt she expected to feel about that didn’t happen. Her longing for a normal family had caused her so much pain, and this new family could do the same. But how could she live her life afraid?

When Stephanie begrudgingly passed her a basket of rolls at dinner, Emily met her eyes and saw that wariness, that fearfulness of being hurt, just like she’d been feeling. But just because Emily was afraid didn’t mean she could pretend these people weren’t important to her.

“Wait until you see what Emily’s done with her building,” Joe told his family, smiling at her.

She glanced at Stephanie to find her continuing to eat, but at least she wasn’t turning away because Emily was the center of attention. “I had a lot of help,” Emily insisted, “including the Internet.”

“And Nate,” Will said, cutting a slice of pork chop and popping it into his mouth.

Nate only grinned as he dug into his mashed potatoes.

Will and Nate were friends, and men did their best to annoy each other, she knew. In a friendly manner, of course.

She smiled as she considered Will. “Yes, Nate helped. And I’m grateful. I’m sure he’ll be relieved when I’m out of his hair.” That caused another scary jolt of unease as she thought of leaving Valentine—leaving him.

Nate gave her an unreadable glance as he said, “You know that’s not true. I’ve enjoyed every minute.”

Stephanie gave a little snort, then covered her mouth with her napkin. More than one person chuckled, including Emily.

Faith eyed her curiously, and Joe just smiled and shook his head, as if Emily amused him.

“Regardless of who helped,” Joe said, “I know you’ve done the majority of the work yourself. Drywall, wooden trim, and all the plastering and painting. It’s as if you were readying it for yourself. You come from a long line of businesswomen, after all.”

Emily stared at him in surprise, then spoke too quickly, “No, I don’t know anything about business. Have you been talking to Monica?”