Dylan's Redemption (26 page)

Silently, she walked him over to an area separate from the other furniture ready to go to her shop. She stopped in front of one of the many covered pieces and bent down next to Will. Her throat clogged, but she managed to get the words out. “I made this a long time ago for a very special little girl named Hope. I think she would like you to have it.”

She uncovered the rocking horse she’d made for their daughter.

Will squealed his delight, handed his horse to Dylan, and tried to get on the horse to make it go. A little bit big for him, he couldn’t quite make it up. Jessie helped him on, and he rocked back and forth. He didn’t see her crying, but Dylan did and stepped to her, his hands outstretched, to pull her close.

She walked past him, tears running down her cheeks and her hand up to ward him off.

Too much to bear, having them here, sharing Hope’s things with them and remembering all she’d lost— she fled back to the house.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

J
ESSIE MANAGED TO
leave the barn and get upstairs before Dylan and Will came back to the house. They moved around downstairs, but she needed time alone to collect herself. She hadn’t been home in over a week and longed to get into her sunken tub and turn on the jets to work out the kinks in her back. Still sore from the accident, her scrapes not completely healed, taking a bath was out of the question. Instead, she turned on the shower and let the steam heat the room. Suddenly, she felt cold to the bone and weary.

She peeled off her T-shirt and bra before she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair, tied up in a ponytail, came out in wisps at her neck and around her face. She tore the bandage off her arm carefully and took in the damage. Yellow, green, and purple bruises bloomed along her shoulder and down her arm in addition to the deep scrapes.

Kicking off her shoes, she carefully slid her sweat pants down her legs. Her hip hurt, making navigating the stairs a problem. She’d had to step up with her right leg and pull her left leg up behind her. Slow going, but effective.

Her leg had suffered the worst of the damage. She pulled the bandages off and turned to regard her backside’s reflection. Red, raw, and scabbing over, the long deep scrapes ran down her thigh from the bottom of her butt on the outside to almost her knee. The same gory colorful watercolor display as her shoulder.

She frowned and turned away from her reflection. Nothing good to look at anyway. Too thin, too muscular from swinging a hammer and hauling wood, the same plain girl she’d always been. She was a construction worker, not a model. Disgusted with herself for even thinking she could, or should, try to compete with other women who worked in jobs that most people would consider the norm for a woman. That wasn’t her. She was different. Not like the women Dylan probably dated over the years. She hated thinking about Dylan taking another woman to dinner, holding her hand, or kissing her. The thought brought on a dismayed groan.

Why would he want to be with someone like her?

The spray hit her back and she tilted her head, allowing the water to wash out the grime from her hair. The hospital shower wasn’t more than a trickle, making it near impossible to get her thick hair clean. Her stitches had been removed, leaving a patch of stubble where they’d shaved her head. Hardly noticeable with her long hair.

She took her time in the shower, even though she shouldn’t have because of her healing wounds. She loved the feel of the water, and after a time she actually relaxed.

Clean and dry, she creamed her skin with a softly scented citrus lotion. She liked the fresh scent and it lightened her mood even more. She made sure to put the ointment the doctor prescribed on her wounds and left the scrapes uncovered.

She slid a cotton T-shirt dress on over her head and savored the feel of the soft material against her skin. One of her favorite casual dresses, the navy blue faded from several washings, but it still made her hair flash red against the richer dark brown color.

She took her time drying her hair and pulling the sides up with a couple of clips. When she glanced in the mirror again, the same old Jessie stared back. Her face wasn’t as pale and her eyes had a little sparkle in them again. She decided to forgo the makeup and simply dabbed on her favorite perfume.

She hobbled downstairs in her bare feet and found Dylan in her kitchen cooking. Will rode his new rocking horse in the great room near the fireplace. Dylan kept looking over his shoulder, watching him.

“You didn’t have to stay.” She leaned against the archway.

“Will and I wanted to make sure you had a good meal your first night home. I figured your fridge would need some cleaning out after you stayed almost two weeks in the hospital. I took the liberty of cleaning out everything spoiled or unrecognizable. I bought you some supplies. You’ve got milk, eggs, cheese, butter, salad stuff, yogurt, pudding cups—those were Will’s idea.”

“I like his idea of grocery shopping.” She smiled softly, watching Will rock, his enjoyment lightening her heavy heart.

“He’d have bought you cereal and pudding. He thinks that’s all you need.”

“Well, there’s that and chocolate. Everything else is just for show,” she teased.

Dylan laughed, a lighthearted sound that made her heart stutter. They’d both been far too serious lately. She’d spent too much time pushing him away, when she really wanted to pull him close, if only she had the courage to face her fear and believe he’d never hurt her again. She’d try, because pushing him away and never knowing if what they had could last scared her even more.

“I also got you some meat. It’s in the freezer. I’m making spaghetti for us tonight with garlic bread. Oh yeah, there’s a loaf of bread over there too. I wasn’t sure exactly what you like, but I got you the basics.”

“Dylan. Stop.”

“What?” He glanced up from chopping the onions for the meat sauce. He stilled, and she came toward him. God, she was beautiful. Her hair hung soft and flowing down her back in waves of browns and reds. As the light caught the strands, it shimmered with the many colors. She wore a dress, and he couldn’t help but look down at her legs. She had great legs. The dress barely hit her mid-thigh. He’d like to sit her on the counter and run his hands up the outside of her thighs until his fingers pushed the skirt up to her hips. He shook off the fantasy and concentrated on her face.

“You don’t have to do all this. I can take care of myself.”

He set the knife down and put both hands on the counter and leaned forward. “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself. I wanted to do something nice for you to thank you for saving my son. I wanted to sit across the table from you, share a meal, and catch up on our lives.”

She opened her mouth, then shut it without uttering a word, accepting his kind gesture. She went to a cabinet and took down a bottle of red wine. She set it on the island where he prepared dinner and turned to get out the corkscrew. When she turned back, she ran right into him. He grabbed her waist to steady her. Bending down, he kissed her softly.

“Thank you for not putting up a fight,” he said against her lips.

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

She stared at him with those big hazel eyes, more green than gold, and told him the truth. She didn’t want to fight or argue with him about the past. She wanted to put it to rest. He kissed her forehead and released her and went back to chopping the onion, satisfied they’d moved another step forward. A first step toward each other—and, he hoped, their future together.

“Cartoons!” Will yelled from the other room.

Dylan put his head back and sighed. “I forgot to bring one of his DVDs to watch. He’ll get bored, and then he’ll get cranky.”

“No problem.” She headed to the other room, leaving the open bottle of wine on the counter to breathe. “What do you like to watch, Will?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, let’s see if that’s on.” She found the remote and turned on the satellite receiver and TV. Will’s eyes lit up at the big TV. “Pretty cool, huh.”

“Yup. Biggest TV I ever seen.”

“Me too. Let’s see what’s on.” She settled Will beside her on the couch and they surfed channels. He made her stop several times. Cooking shows, he loved them. She finally found a cartoon channel showing something he recognized. He snuggled in close to her side and sat quietly watching. She should help Dylan with dinner, but if he wanted to make it, let him. How often did she have someone around to cook for her? Hardly ever, and never often enough, in her estimation.

She loved having Will close, but warned herself not to get attached, not to start thinking he was hers. She tamped down thoughts of Hope and missing her. Wishing for her didn’t do anything but make her sad, and she didn’t want to be sad anymore.

She wanted to sit with this little boy and watch TV and let the warmth of the moment soothe her aching heart.

Dylan watched the two of them from the kitchen.

He surveyed the house again and smiled. He liked it here. It felt right. He and Will could be comfortable living with her. He’d thought he’d get her to marry him and she’d move out to his place near his cousins. On second thought, this place was perfect. Even more so because she’d designed and built it herself. He figured she’d never want to give it up. Add to the fact it she built it on the land they’d made their daughter.

He got chills driving up her driveway thinking about it. He wondered how she managed to make the drive every day and not remember their night together. Then again, she probably didn’t try to forget. She’d picked this spot for the house for the very reason it was where they’d spent the night together. It gave him hope knowing she cared that deeply about their past. Now, he just needed her to love him in the present and for the next fifty-plus years.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

J
ESSIE DIDN’T REALIZE
how much she’d missed having someone to share a meal with. Will was comical when it came to eating spaghetti. He got more on his face than in his mouth, but it didn’t matter. He had fun doing it. Dylan kept the conversation moving, talking about his time in the military, serving in the wars overseas, facing life and death, finishing his degree during his police training, and living in Atlanta. She opened up about starting her own company, and how she’d worked while attending school. He understood how hard it must have been on her to accomplish it, and finish it.

They didn’t discuss Hope or his mother. She wondered if he had more questions. She had a few of her own about Will. Did Dylan have someone special in his life? Did he really want to start over with her? Was it all just wishful thinking they could start over? Did he love her?

Afraid to ask, even more afraid he did, she didn’t want to try again only to have it all fall apart. But what if it didn’t this time?

They weren’t impulsive teenagers anymore. This time, they had no secrets. They’d done their growing up and found their place in the world. This time, they could take the time, build their friendship and attraction into a sturdy foundation for a lasting future.

Looking at him across the table with the wine making her a little numb, she dreamed this was her life. Way too easy to think this was how she spent every evening. Dylan and Will had become a part of her home, seamlessly blending in without a ripple. Will played with the rocking horse and flopped on the couch like he owned the place. Dylan whipped up dinner without once asking her where she stored something. He’d simply made himself at home, rummaging through her refrigerator and cupboards. She regretted the late hour and found she already missed them, even though they hadn’t yet left.

From the couch, Will said, “I’m not supposed to say so, but I want you to be the mommy. I get to choose. You said so,” he reminded his father.

The blooming dream of a future with Dylan faded to gray. What if Will chose another mother? What if she couldn’t be the mother he needed? Being with Dylan again meant being with Will. Surprisingly, that thought made her happy. She liked the little boy. Despite feeling as if she’d closed off her heart when Hope died, she found it open to Will, even if she still had her reservations about Dylan. Loving a little boy was so much easier than loving a man.

“I know what I said. I also remember telling you we have to give Jessie time. She and I have some things to work out, and we’re sad because we lost Hope.”

“She died.” Will pouted and frowned at Jessie. “My goldfish died. It was sad. I cried.”

“That is sad, honey. Hope was just a baby when she died. I miss her very much.”

“Daddy is sad too. He misses her. She can’t come back from heaven.”

“No, honey, she can’t. Tell me how you picked your daddy.” She thought changing the subject would be a good idea for herself and Dylan. Besides, she really wanted to know how these two became father and son.

“The belly mommy couldn’t keep me. She found Daddy and he helped her. I didn’t belong to the belly mommy. I belonged to him.”

“The belly mommy.” She smiled at Dylan, thinking it a charming way to tell a child he was adopted.

“I wasn’t sure how to explain to him where babies come from. Since Heather carried him in her belly, we call her the belly mommy. Eighteen, all set to go off to college and have a brilliant future, she found out she was pregnant. She managed to keep it hidden from her parents and graduate high school with honors. When she couldn’t hide the pregnancy any longer, she ran away from home, hoping to have the baby without anyone finding out. She had some trouble and wound up on the streets of Atlanta scared and alone.

“While on duty one night, I found her in an alley. I took one look at her and knew I had to help her. Something about her spoke to me and told me not to send her home, or to a shelter. After letting her parents know she was safe, she stayed with me a couple weeks, until Will came. Easier that way for her to go home without the neighbors and friends knowing she gave up the baby. When she went into labor, I was scared to death for her and the baby. We’d become good friends and her parents liked me. When this little man came into the world, she handed him to me and asked if I’d raise him. She’d already talked to her parents about it, and they agreed. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to say no. He was mine. I knew it the moment I saw him.”