and what he did were not…enough. And the doubt had bombarded him repeatedly in the past two weeks since receiving the news about Anita intervening for custody of Robin.
With his edginess at a peak, Jeb flung back the covers and stood, clothed in his usual sleeping attire of a pair of briefs. He reached for the jeans he kept at the foot of his bed and slid them on before stepping out into the hallway and making his way to the kitchen. He was still unaccustomed to remembering to wear proper clothing in the common areas of the trailer, was used to walking about in or out of whatever he pleased as he had for the past twenty-five years. But that behavior wouldn’t do with a young lady in the house.
Jeb was unusually conscientious about that aspect of his guardianship. He knew part of the reason the court hadn’t waived the normal six-month period for awarding him adoption of his niece—as was often done in cases where the parties were related—was that of the very strikes against him thrown by Anita, now and fourteen years ago. He was a bachelor living with his own bachelor uncle in a trailer out on Lake Texoma, with no prospect of change.
Jeb filled a glass with tap water from the kitchen faucet, recalling how he’d stood here earlier this evening while doing dishes with Robin. They’d been almost through when she had spoken up, her cheeks flushing, about needing a permission slip signed for school. It was only after he’d read what she needed permission for that he understood her embarrassment at approaching him: the girls in her class were to see a film and presentation about puberty and how it would affect them.
At the bottom of the slip was the simple statement, “Mothers are invited to attend.”
Jeb’s fingers tightened reflexively around the glass. In the deepest corner of his heart, he had to wonder if a judge might not be right giving Robin to Anita. How quickly the girl responded to Mariah today told him a lot about Robin’s need for a mother. Though she never said a word, he knew the girl missed her mother. What kid wouldn’t?
He himself had been six years old when his parents had died, and he remembered Wiley saying once that when Jeb had come to live on Texoma, he’d been like a whelp weaned too soon from its mama. Cody had been older, and neither of their parents’ deaths had impacted him the same way as they had Jeb.
So make that twice, he realized. Twice in his life he’d been made to feel that he had not been enough—enough to keep his parents from leaving him.
Maybe because Robin was older, she would adjust more easily, as Cody had. But he and Cody had been boys; Robin was a girl, and she was entering that age when a girl needed a mother most.
And not just a mother. A mother for Robin should be someone…naturally tender, with a combination of gentle strength and kindness. So kind and soft—
Abruptly Jeb tipped his head back and slugged down the whole glass of water in three swallows, as if to distract his mind from such thoughts. Crazy thoughts they were, showing him how desperate he was becoming. He’d told Mariah he wasn’t going to take a wife just to give Robin a mother, but what if in doing so he managed to fill one or two needs of his own?
There were saner alternatives. Maybe his marital status wasn’t going to change soon, but why couldn’t he move the three of them—Robin, Wiley and himself—into town and take a job? He didn’t know what on earth kind it would be, but at least Robin might take up more-appropriate interests than learning to bait hooks or gut fish. Wouldn’t she be happier there, too?
Did it matter that something would die in him—and in Wiley—to leave here for the city?
Something would die in him, too, though, if he lost Robin.
Besides, Jeb had never dreamed of leaving the place he had come to as a grief-stricken orphan. He reckoned the reason he had set down such roots here, which continued to thrust ever deeper, was that as a boy, he had feared he would never have a place where he belonged again. That he would never be loved or needed. Memories of those fears were why Jeb encouraged Robbie to become involved in the fishing business, make her feel that it was part hers, too. To exclude her from joining in, from being a part of their family completely, would permanently disable a sense of hopefulness in the girl that had just barely learned to stand on two feet again.
Yes, he and Robin shared a special bond, having lost their parents and coming to live on Texoma with their only uncle. She was all either he or Wiley had left of Cody.
She was also all that Anita had left of Lisa. Sure, right now Robin was resistant to the prospect of living with her aunt, but perhaps that was because Robin didn’t know Anita very well, she and her husband having been on the move so much. Maybe if Robin got a chance to get to know the whole family, see how she fit in, she’d feel differently. Maybe he would, too….
Dropping his chin, Jeb stared at his hand, barely visible in the dimness. Whether his fingers were turned white by the half-light or the way he gripped the edge of the sink, he didn’t know.
But one thing he did know with soul-deep certainty: he simply could not lose that little girl.
Nearly out of breath, Mariah entered the crowded bar where she was to meet Jeb Albright, painfully aware that she was late by a good twenty minutes. So much for impressing clients with your punctuality. Of course, Jeb wasn’t a client; he’d merely called and said since he had to come into town this afternoon, perhaps they could arrange a place to meet and he could pick up the booklet she’d promised Robin. So this appointment was just a matter of convenience for them both, and Mariah had no reason to think it might be otherwise, although her brain raced with several possibilities. Almost as much as her heart
For whatever reason, she hadn’t been able to get Jeb Albright—or his niece, of course—out of her mind in the few days since she’d learned of their plight.
Then her pulse kicked up into another gear as she spied him. He was again dressed in jeans, these fairly new, though, and from the looks of them, as well fitting as the others he’d worn. His collared shirt, open at the throat, was clean and pressed but otherwise unremarkable. In this light, she saw that rather than dark brown, his hair was brunette shot through with gold highlights, and just as shaggy as it had appeared the other day.
As if he had heard her thoughts, Jeb looked up, catching her gaze, and ran a hand through those unruly waves. The action only marginally improved his hair’s arrangement, making him seem a little less wild, although—strangely— no less appealing.
He’d been leaning back against the actual bar, fingers tucked into his front pockets, and he straightened at the sight of her, appearing both relieved and apprehensive at her arrival. As if one minute longer and he’d have bolted, appointment or no. She.couldn’t imagine why.
Unless there really was another reason behind this meeting.
“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized once she’d made her way to his side. She caught the whiff of a spicy after-shave. Too much of it, she thought.
“No problem. I didn’t have anything urgent to get back to.”
Despite that assurance, he seemed a bit restless to be on his way. Vaguely disappointed, Mariah pulled the pamphlet out of her purse and handed it to him. “I’ve gone ahead and marked a few of the simpler braids to start out with.”
“Good…good.” Jeb nodded rather emphatically.
