She’d lost her best friend. She’d lost Jake. Things between them could never be the same. “I’m fine.”
He stared at her. “You sure?”
Ali nodded, praying he’d leave before she broke down and begged him not to.
He started through the door, then paused and looked back at her. “Ali, I never meant for anything to happen.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, Ali.” He disappeared through the door.
She sat unmoving, frozen with emptiness. She heard his car start, then the grinding of the transmission as he slammed it into gear. She closed her eyes against the angry sound.
He drove away, taking her heart and hopes with him. She got to her feet, then walked through the door to the porch railing. On the ground below were the clay pots, broken and scattered like the pieces of her heart. She lifted her gaze. The lake appeared cold and blue in the growing light of day. Clutching the blanket to her chest, she breathed in Jake’s elusive scent trapped within the weave. A tear trailed down her cheek, a hot, stinging reminder that she’d been a fool to wish for miracles.
“Goodbye, Jake,” she whispered, knowing he’d never return to a town he hated, a father he despised or a woman he would never love.
Chapter One
Jake Hawkins was back.
The nearly two, long years since she’d last seen him faded away as Allison Pierce leaned against the railing in the elevator and sucked in a long, slow breath, trying to fight off the claustrophobic feeling that threatened to engulf her. It didn’t work. Although the temperature outside was in the thirties, sweat beaded her upper lip, and her heart pounded in her chest.
Finally the bell chimed for the fourth floor, and as soon as the door opened, she quickly stepped out into the ICU unit of Webster Memorial Hospital. Her gaze darted around the quiet, ecru-colored corridor as she walked across the teal carpeting toward the nurses’ station. There were several nurses bustling around, but none were Margo.
Good. She could leave and her friend wouldn’t be angry. Margo was the one who hadn’t shown up. Ali started back to the elevator when she heard a voice. She turned to find Margo Wells hurrying toward her. The short brunette hadn’t changed much since high school. She was still shapely and cute.
Not like Ali, who was tall and thin, with too curly red hair and freckles, and looked about eighteen.
“Oh, no, you don’t, Ali Pierce,” Margo cried. “You’re not running away from this.”
“I shouldn’t be here in the first place,” Ali argued.
“Wrong,” Margo said. “You should have been here two days ago when they brought Jake in.”
At the mention of Jake, the fight went out of Ali. “Has there been any change?”
“No, that’s why I wanted you here. He’s been through a lot the last forty-eight hours. The crash. Being pinned in his car. Exposure to the elements in a freak October snowstorm.” Her friend gave her a penetrating look. “And even after all that, he managed to say Ali-cat before losing consciousness.”
“An old nickname,” Ali murmured, memories flooding her. “Maybe you misunderstood.”
The nurse shook her head stubbornly.
“C’mon, Margo. It’s been nearly two years,” Ali said, more frustrated than before. She wasn’t ready to face Jake. Not after all that had happened… “He couldn’t possibly want to see me.”
The elevator doors opened again, and more people exited. Margo pulled her aside. “Look, Ali. It’s only been eighteen months, but that’s beside the point. The man has been in a terrible automobile accident, one he probably shouldn’t have survived, but he did. He’s in a coma, but before he drifted off he said your name, and not just once.”
Ali blinked back tears. Darn, she didn’t want to cry. She’d shed gallons of tears after Jake left. It had taken her a long time to get over his not coming back to her, but she had. At least she had told herself she had.
“You need to do this, Ali. If not for yourself, then you need to see him for Joanie’s sake. He’s her father.”
Ali glanced around to see if anyone had heard. Margo was the only person who knew the true paternity of her little girl. “Everything I’ve done this past year has been for Joanie.”
“And if you’re lucky, you can give her what she needs—a daddy.”
“And what will it cost me?” Ali blinked back more tears. Keeping the identity of her daughter’s father a secret hadn’t been Ali’s choice. Jake had left town. Maybe it was her pride, but she didn’t want a man who obviously didn’t want her. A man who hadn’t stuck around long enough to learn the consequence of their night together. Her daughter deserved better.
Margo shrugged. “You’ll never know unless you go and see Jake.”
Ali gazed down the hall. What would Jake do when he found out about Joanie? “What if he has a wife somewhere?” Darcie was supposed to be married to Jake. The guilt over what happened that long-ago night still haunted Ali.
Margo shook her head again. “Besides his father, you and Joanie are the closest family he has.”
“But I’m not family. I can’t go in ICU.”
“Yes, you can. C’mon, I’ll keep watch.” Margo started down the hall.
Ali relented and followed. Fear dogged her every step. It would be simpler just to leave things as they were. But she knew nothing was simple for Jake now. She had to do everything possible to help him—if only for Joanie’s sake.
When Ali finally entered the dimly lit room, she stopped dead. Her heartbeat was erratic, a stark contrast to the steady rhythm of the machines. She gazed at the metal bed where Jake Hawkins lay. Her feet felt like lead weights when she made her way across the tiled floor. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she reached his bedside.
Managing to fight back her shock, Ali stared down at Jake’s still, bruised body. Oh, God, she’d pictured seeing him again in a thousand different ways, but she’d never envisioned him lying so lifeless.
Anguish overwhelmed her. “Oh, Jake!” Her gaze swept over him, noting the ugly lacerations, the bruises on his skin and the bandages that encased his ribs and chest. His left leg was also heavily bandaged, and was elevated by a pulley hooked to the end of the bed. An IV drip sent medication into his veins, and a clear oxygen tube into his nose helped him breathe.
He looked pale, so different from the tan, vibrant man she remembered. She gently touched his jaw, which was swollen on one side where it had taken four stitches to close the gash in his chin.
He appeared shattered and defenseless. Her hand moved to smooth back the short curls that brushed his bandaged forehead. Silk. Black silk. That was what it had felt like between her fingers when she’d held him to her breast. Almost forgotten longing clenched tight in her belly, shocking Ali back to the present.
What was she doing?
