“Don’t push it, Kelly.” Next she’d be trying to suck him into thinking God cared whether Ross Van Zandt had paid for his sins.
“Okay, I won’t push it.” She shrugged. “But you don’t have to pick me up. I can catch a ride with someone and meet you there.”
Leaving him to walk into the hornet’s nest of church people alone? No way.
“I’ll be here,” he reiterated. “What time?”
They’d just decided on a time when the front doorbell rang.
“Pretty late for callers,” he muttered, more to himself than her. He had a sudden replay of her hunched in that closet and made sure he was two steps behind when Kelly opened the door.
A uniformed officer stood on the step, face peeking out from beneath her cap. “Glynis Barnes. Zach sent me over to stay with you tonight.”
“Oh. How thoughtful of him,” Kelly murmured. “Please, come in.”
“Wait a minute.” Ross stepped forward, blocking her path. “Do you have identification?”
Officer Barnes nodded, pulled out her badge and waited until he’d studied it. Satisfied, Ross handed it back, caught a bit of movement from the corner of his eye and turned. Kelly’s eyes grew huge, then she seemed to waver. He grasped her arms, held her upright.
“Hey! What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. All of a sudden I don’t feel very well.”
“I’m the one who should be woozy after all that chocolate. You didn’t even have any.”
“Yes.” But she barely smiled at his joke, her face blanching as her fingers clutched his arm. “Oh, my.”
“You need to sit down.” He guided her back into the den, helped her into a chair. “Better?”
She shook her head “yes” once, but that changed to a violent “no” as she lurched to her feet and headed out of the room as if on fire.
“She’s sick. I’ll look after her,” the cop told him calmly, then followed Kelly.
Left on his own, Ross paced the den for several minutes, wondering why she’d suddenly become so sick. Probably the gingersnaps, he decided with a grimace. That particular cookie had never been one of his favorites, though in his childhood years he’d never had a choice between the kinds of cookies he’d enjoyed. He’d considered it a good day if there was bread in the house. Treats of any kind were a luxury.
He wasn’t sure how long he waited until Kelly returned. She was whiter than cotton wool and her eyes were glossy.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice wobbly. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t feel very well. I think I’ll go to bed.”
“Probably the best thing,” he agreed. “Now that you’ve got—” he glanced at the cop standing nearby, raised one eyebrow, her name forgotten in the excitement.
“Glynis,” she supplied.
“Now that you’ve got Glynis here, I guess I’d better go, too. Take it easy, okay? If you don’t feel better tomorrow, we can cancel.”
“You wish!” A bit of her fighting spirit had returned to those expressive eyes and Ross was glad to see it.
“No, I don’t wish. I think I might even be looking forward to it.” Which was more truth than she needed to hear. But the simple fact was, something about Kelly Young made him want to stick around.
She nodded, but her skin was turning that sickly shade of green again and Ross figured this was a great time to get out. He headed for the door, grabbed his coat, slid on his shoes and waved a hand.
“Take care.”
“Yes. Thank you for everything.”
A moment later Glynis closed the door behind him. He walked into the chilly night air, climbed into his car and revved the engine, hoping it would warm soon and send out some heat. He decided to visit Sandra. She’d want to know what happened and he needed to see her, to let her know he’d told Kelly the truth.
He wouldn’t explain that Kelly had been less than ecstatic about meeting her birth mother. Later, of course. But not now, not tonight. Tonight he just wanted Sandra to know that her daughter, Kelly, knew she had a mother nearby.
The streets were deserted and Ross made good time. He’d phoned Sandra on his cell to make sure she was up to receiving guests and learned she’d been sitting by the phone, waiting and wondering. Several minutes later he pulled up in front of her pretty little house and walked up to the door. She opened it before he could knock, her face brimming with questions.
“How did it go?” Sandra asked after she’d hugged him. He’d begun to enjoy those bursts of affection she showered on him.
“Kelly was surprised but I think she took it okay.” He’d already decided not to tell Sandra about the rest of the events that night. She would only worry. “She’s going to need a bit of time to absorb it all.”
“Of course.” Sandra perched on the edge of the piano bench and knotted her fingers together. “Did she seem upset?”
Ross chose his words carefully.
“Not upset. But it’s hard for her to understand. I think she’s fighting her feelings, as if getting to know her birth mother means somehow betraying her adoptive mother. When I told her you’d been pressured to give her away, she was pretty amazed.”
“Shocked, you mean. I don’t blame her. I’ve wondered for years how I could have let him talk me into it.” Sandra jumped to her feet. “I think I’ll make some tea. And I’ve got a piece of pie for you. I brought it back from the diner.”
“No, thanks, Sandra. Nothing for me. Please.” He rose and grasped her hands when they would have reached to fill the kettle. “You need to rest. Come and sit down,” he cajoled. “Stop fussing over me and take some time to let things sink in.”
Sandra had pushed her way through the cancer treatments with a will and determination Ross admired. She’d come through like a trooper, was on the mend now. But he’d glimpsed those times when she sagged from her battle against the deadly disease. He’d seen firsthand how her need to seem all right in front of her staff and customers at the diner had left her sapped of energy when she came home where no one could see. He was prepared to argue with her now if it would make her conserve whatever strength she could muster for what might lay ahead. Emotionally she was needy. What happened with Kelly could drain her and make her physical recovery more difficult.
Ross led her to the nearest easy chair, waited until she was seated, then pulled up a footstool and sat down in front of her. He took her hands in his.
“You had a baby girl, a daughter,” he murmured, knowing she hadn’t yet begun to absorb that detail, though he’d told her about the DNA results hours ago.
“I know. A girl named Kelly.” Tears rushed to her eyes and she dashed them away. “And such a pretty girl. Did you notice her hair? Those streaks—gold and silver and bronze, all mixed up together. I used to try so hard to get my hair those exact shades when I was her age. Of course hairdressers didn’t do highlights nearly as well back then and my parents condemned me for coloring my hair, but still…” She stretched a hand to the area just above her ear, rubbed her fingers against the downy tendrils that had begun re-growing after her chemo treatments.
“Kelly is as beautiful as her mother,” he murmured, his heart pinching at the soft sheen of love that radiated from Sandra’s pretty face. “She has to love you, Sandra. She won’t be able to help it. Just give her time.”
“You’re so sweet to me, Ross.” She enveloped him in another tight hug, then leaned back and pinched his cheek. “Why hasn’t some smart woman snapped you up?”