Second Chance Mom. Emilie Rose

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      “I haven’t hammered out all the details.”

      “You need a plan before you pack her up and move.”

      True. Instantly becoming a mother to the child she’d given birth to thirteen years ago terrified her—probably more now than it had then when she’d been less equipped but naively eager to try. Back then Hope had convinced her that a baby needed a parent who was stable and reliable. Rachel hadn’t been either.

      Could she be now?

      Yes, damn it. Yes. She didn’t know how, but she would be.

      “Cut me some slack. I just lost my sister. I haven’t had time to think. By the time I’ve packed up Hope’s house and put it on the market, I’ll have a plan for Chastity.”

      Her thoughts reeled over the long to-do list. Dealing with Hope’s estate was only the tip of the iceberg, according to the lawyer she’d met with before coming to school.

      Matt’s concern for Chastity’s welfare sounded genuine, even though he had no idea the girl shared his DNA. That only confirmed what Hope had said all those years ago—that Matt was too good for Rachel. Back then he’d been a star quarterback with a future in the NFL after college. Rachel had been self-destructive and in trouble more often than not. She and a baby would have held him back.

      Staring into his disapproving face, she truly believed she’d done the right thing when she’d severed the connection between the all-American boy and the black sheep of the Bishop family. No matter how many second thoughts she’d had, neither Matt nor Chastity had deserved being tied to the self-centered twit she’d been back then. Corrupting a truly good person, as her parents had reminded her often, was a sin. Yet no matter how hard Rachel worked to make amends for her mistakes, she could never change the fact that she’d robbed Matt and his wonderful family of the opportunity to know his child.

      Did he have others? She surreptitiously glanced at his left hand. No ring. But that didn’t mean anything. And neither did the relief coursing through her. His marital status meant nothing to her. Nothing.

      “Does Chastity have any family on her father’s side? We wanted to notify them but couldn’t find a name or number in Hope’s paperwork.”

      Matt’s question jerked her back to the present with heart-thumping alarm. Her otherwise virtuous sister had lied to cover Rachel’s mistake, and Rachel didn’t know all the details of the story Hope had concocted. Best to say as little as possible.

      “No.”

      “You’re all she has?”

      “Yes. My parents died before Chastity was born.” Losing them and relinquishing her baby in the same year had seemed just punishment for her misdeeds. She was alone in the world now, except for the daughter she couldn’t rightfully claim. Grief blossomed, but she crushed the bud.

      “I’m sorry about your folks.”

      She’d been a total disappointment to them. “Thanks.”

      The door whooshed open a sliver and a dark-haired girl’s overly made-up face appeared in the gap. Recognition hit Rachel with the force of a tsunami. Shock followed. Chastity had grown up. The round-faced child Rachel had known was gone, replaced by a young woman with heavily painted brown eyes and overly teased hair.

      “Aunt Rachel?”

      Chastity’s sullen face resembled the one Rachel had seen in her own mirror when she’d been a student here. The haunted look in the girl’s eyes tore at Rachel’s heart. Empathy and love swelled within her. Her mouth dried. Nodding, she devoured the sight of the lanky teenager squeezing past Matt.

      “Hello, Chastity.” She opened her arms.

      Chastity hesitated, and it felt as if an elephant settled on Rachel’s chest. She bit her lip to stymie the sob building inside her. Then the girl launched forward. The impact of her body against Rachel’s nearly knocked her over. Rachel hugged her. It felt so good to hold her again. It had been so long. Five years too long. She squeezed tighter, never wanted to let go. She inhaled a shaky breath and choked on heavy perfume. That brought a smile to her lips. She and Chastity had so much in common.

      It had been the hugs Rachel had missed the most since Hope had ended their visits. The unconditional love had been a close second. Chastity had actually loved her when it had seemed no one else did. Happy tears burned paths down her cheeks. She rocked gently and stroked Chastity’s tangled hair.

      Chastity jerked away abruptly, swiping her eyes and smearing blue mascara across her cheekbones. She sniffed and tried to look cool, as if she hadn’t nearly broken Rachel’s ribs or soaked her shirt. “Glad you came.”

      “Me, too.” Rachel had to force the words past her constricted throat.

      “I didn’t think you would. I would’ve been okay if you hadn’t.” Chastity’s voice wobbled, and her chin tipped up in false bravado. She wore an expression that said the world had done her dirty, and she was fully prepared for it to do so again.

      Rachel had been that same defensive girl. She dabbed her own cheeks and hoped Matt didn’t notice. “Fat chance of me not coming, kiddo. I’m sorry it took so long to get here. I was out in the wild with unreliable generators and intermittent electricity, radios instead of phones, and no internet.”

      Chastity shuddered dramatically. “That’s roughing it.”

      Then Rachel realized she now stood eye to eye with the child—one who’d developed hollows in her cheeks and curves in her breasts. The gap-toothed eight-year-old she remembered was on the brink of womanhood.

      “Chastity, you’ve grown a foot.”

      Chastity grinned. “Yep.” Then she leaned forward. “Thanks for the bras,” she whispered. “Mom said I was too young for one.” She glanced over her shoulder as if to make sure Matt hadn’t overheard.

      “You’re welcome.” Those emails had kept Rachel going, and being allowed to order and ship occasional gifts to Chastity had helped her feel connected.

      “Can we go now?” Chastity pleaded.

      Matt shook his head. “Your aunt will have to sign you out, and I’d like to talk to you both about what put you in detention in the first place.”

      “Aw, c’mon, Coach Johnston. I know what I did and I’m sorry. Stuff has been shit—tough lately. I’ve had church ladies praying over me nearly every minute and somebody in my grill worrying about every little thing ’til I’m about to crawl outta my skin. I just want to be left alone.”

      Matt’s expression softened slightly. “Taking your frustrations out on others is never the answer.”

      Chastity rolled her eyes. “I know. ‘God loves a gracious and forgiving person.’”

      Chastity’s chanted words plunged Rachel into the past. That phrase had been yanked out every time Rachel had strayed from the narrow path of her upbringing—which had been pretty frequently. She’d come to hate the verse. Apparently Hope had carried on their parents’ tradition. That was a practice Rachel intended to break. Guilt and a sense of failure СКАЧАТЬ