“You’ve been fighting so long you don’t trust anything good. I get that, too.”
Someday she would love to hear this woman’s story, but she knew this wasn’t the time or the place. There was one thing she felt she had to know, though. “Your child?”
The smile Martine Amaro gave her then warmed her to the core. “He’s twenty-three and already a licensed contractor, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.”
“And he of you, I suspect,” Jolie said.
“As Emma will be of you. Now, get on with you. Go buy yourself something nice.”
Jolie laughed, warmed even more by the hope that those words would be prophetic.
Something nice? she wondered as she headed out toward her car, pushing her dark hair back as the breeze tossed it. It had been a very long time since that possibility had been within reach. But maybe...something nice for her and Emma? The girl loved it when they wore matching things, so maybe something like that.
As she drove the short distance, she thought about taking Emma out for dinner to celebrate. They did it so rarely it was quite the treat for the little girl, and she always behaved immaculately; more than once Jolie had been complimented on the child’s behavior by total strangers.
She realized she was smiling. Realized with a jolt that what was making her smile was happiness. A feeling she normally didn’t experience unless she was with Emma.
The old alarms went off in her head. Don’t trust it. Don’t trust anything.
She’d had a very short learning curve on trust. Except it had been more like a roller coaster since her parents had died, one with more downs than peaks. The first real peak had been Kevin Oberman, Emma’s father, who had convinced her he loved her and vanished the day after she’d told him about the plus sign on that little stick. The second had been the day she was hired at the Colton Ranch. Which had led to the third.
And that one, the biggest one, followed by the longest drop, she tried never to think about. And when she couldn’t stave off the memories, she let them come in the nature of a reminder, pounding home a lesson learned the hard way.
Don’t trust.
She’d trusted with all her heart just once. It had been the biggest mistake she’d ever made. Even bigger than Kevin, because at least that had resulted in the child who was the sole highlight of her misbegotten life. The one person she loved without reservation, and who loved her back unstintingly.
But those trusting, halcyon days on the Colton Ranch, when she’d briefly but so very sweetly let herself think she’d found the treasure she’d coveted since her own childhood, a real family, seemed long ago now.
But the lesson learned was harsh and close and real, and she would do well to keep it that way. And to remember not the sweetness she’d had so briefly but the bitter ending. In fact, she would do well not to think about T. C. Colton at all but to remember every vivid, painful moment of that last meeting with his parents. Whitney and Eldridge Colton had presented a united and brutal front, and she’d been helpless to stand against them.
Now, she thought with no small amount of pride, they might find her not quite so easy to push around. Setting that example Mrs. Amaro had talked about. She wanted Emma to be a different kind of woman, and the only way she could see to ensure that was to be what she wanted her daughter to become, to show her the way.
Showing Eldridge and Whitney Colton they’d been wrong about her was just a bonus.
And T.C.?
“No,” she muttered under her breath as she pulled in to the back of the day care, where it was easier to find a place to park. “Not going there.”
She never let herself think about that part, that he had let her go, hadn’t even come looking for her. True, she’d never answered his calls or texts—that had been part of the deal—but she’d thought he might at least be curious enough to look. And she knew him well enough to know that if he decided to look, he would find; he was not a man who gave up easily. Unless he wanted to.
He never even missed you. He’d probably replaced you by the end of the day.
The old lecture played like a worn-out loop in her head. She could accept that. What she couldn’t accept was how he had let Emma go, too. She would have sworn he loved her. He’d been hesitant at first, unused to babies, but tentatively, he had begun to interact with her. She would never, no matter how hard she tried, forget the look on his face the first time he’d lifted the child above him and made her break into a rain of delighted giggles. His smile had matched the baby’s, and in that moment she’d believed in forever.
I can take it, she thought. But how could anyone not miss a child as sweet as my Emma?
No, she knew she’d done the right thing. For all three of them. His actions—or lack of them—afterward had proved that. He’d probably been relieved, since he’d made no effort at all to change her mind.
She hastened inside the day care, greeted the administrator in the foyer with a nod and a smile, and headed for the pickup area in the front of the building. Her first sight of Emma, as always, drove all the negative thoughts out of her mind. The little girl shrieked with joy when she spotted her, and ran to her with arms raised.
“Mommy, Mommy! Look what I painted!”
The child waved a large piece of heavy paper at her. Jolie looked at it dutifully. After a second’s scrutiny of the splotch of green and blue, she smiled. “It’s the park,” she said.
Emma was delighted she recognized it. “See the tree?” she asked, pointing at the slightly crooked shape that leaned toward the water, rather isolated and alone.
“I do.”
That park was why she’d taken that apartment despite the neighborhood, even though it was a bit over her initial budget. Having the park with the pond right across the street was worth it. She didn’t have to drive to give Emma room to run and play, and what she saved in gas money probably evened it all out.
And now with the raise, they would be fine. She hadn’t thought of all the ramifications of that extra money coming in. She gave Emma an even wider smile and the girl giggled.
“What’s this?” Jolie asked, pointing to a blotch of several colors on what was apparently supposed to be a fluffy white cloud.
“A rainbow,” Emma said seriously. “It’s not borned yet.”
Emotion welled up and nearly spilled over at the child’s simple words and beautiful imagination. “I love you, Emma Peters.”
“Love you back, Mommy. Can we go now?”
“We can. I have a little treat in store for you tonight.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Really?”
It tugged at Jolie’s heart that a treat was so rare it astonished the girl. Maybe it could be more often now, she thought as she took the girl’s hand and they headed back to where she’d parked. Emma clutched her painting as they stepped outside and the wind threatened to steal it. Visions of it blowing away with Emma in hot pursuit made her grimace. There wasn’t much traffic back here; the only person she saw was a woman on foot walking past the back door of the boutique shop next door, but you just never knew.
“Why don’t I hang on to that, and you go get in the car?” she suggested, hitting the button that unlocked the doors.
“’Kay.”
Jolie took the painting with her free hand, keeping her eyes on Emma as she ran to the passenger side of the car and pulled the back door open.
“Jolie? She forgot this.”
The call came from behind her and she turned her head to see one of the day-care monitors