Emily's Daughter (14 page)

At his car, he placed his palms flat on the hood, as if he could draw from it the stability he needed. He gulped in some air and saw her face—Emily’s. He could hear the pain in her voice and see the sorrow in her eyes and he knew again that she wasn’t lying to him. A shuddering breath escaped him and it released the tightness in his chest.
She wasn’t lying to him.
Now that he’d firmly established that in his mind, he could go on. For a moment he’d been suspended in a realm of desolation and despair, but now he could breathe again. As long as he had faith in Emily, he could sort this out. And he would. First he had to find a way to tell her, though. How did he do that?

As he drove to his hotel room, thoughts ran riot in his head. If the adoption had been canceled, why didn’t Emily know? Maybe a wealthy and powerful family had adopted their daughter and they’d wanted to make sure no one could trace the child. Money talked. He’d been in business long enough to know that. If a sufficient amount of money changed hands, the records at the hospital and the agency could have been altered to suit the purposes of the adoptive parents. That was the only explanation he could think of, and if it was true, they would never see their daughter. That left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Back in his room, he paced and paced until he thought his brain would explode with so many disturbing questions. He had to talk to someone or he’d go crazy. He picked up the phone and called his father, hoping he’d be in the house and not out fishing.

When Jackson heard his voice, he experienced a moment of relief. As always, George wanted to know how the search was developing. Jackson told him what he’d found. George seemed as puzzled as he was about the information.

“I just don’t understand, son.”

“I don’t, either, but I’m trying to piece this together because I know Emily’s not lying to me.”

“Sounds like you and Emily have made progress.”

“We have, and if I don’t do anything else, I’m going to find our daughter—for her and for all the lousy years in between. I’m just scared.”

“About what?” George asked.

Jackson told him about his suspicions of a wealthy couple having all the records altered.

“I guess it’s a possibility, and I’ve also heard about babies being sold on the black market.”

“I couldn’t take that,” he groaned.

“You have to be prepared, son,” George said. “Because it appears that something’s going on that shouldn’t be.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He paused. “I saw the record of her birth at the hospital, but after that, there’s nothing.”

“What about a birth certificate?”

“The adoptive parents would’ve had that changed. The original is sealed in Austin. That would probably be my next step. I’ll call my lawyer to see—hey, wait a minute!”

“What?” George asked excitedly.

“If everything was on the up-and-up, there should be a record of her birth at the courthouse,” Jackson said, the blood pumping through his veins with accelerating speed. “I should’ve though of that, but my mind’s short-circuited. I’ll go…” He glanced at his watch and saw it was after five o’clock. “Damn, I can’t make it in time. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

“Good,” George said. “That might answer some of your questions.”

“I hope so.” Jackson echoed the sentiments. “I’ll call when I can.”

“Oh, Jackson,” George said before he could hang up.

“What?”

“Do you mind if I tell Maudie?”

Jackson wasn’t sure what to say.

“She won’t tell anyone. I just need to talk to someone.”

Jackson knew the feeling. “Fine, but I don’t want her calling me with a lot of questions, okay?”

“I’ll make certain that doesn’t happen.”

Jackson had to grin. His dad had as much control over Aunt Maude as he had over the weather, but she was family and would learn about this eventually. And Jackson didn’t want to keep it a secret. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

“I’m taking her out to dinner tonight,” his father was saying.

“Glad to hear that. Tell her I said hi.”

J
ACKSON STROLLED TO
the River Walk and ordered dinner at the same place he and Emily had eaten that first night. But this time, the people, the camaraderie and the jovial atmosphere left him untouched. He missed Emily and he wanted to see her and talk to her. The need was so strong he had a hard time finishing his meal.

He went back to the room and called her. It was good to hear her voice, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t tell her what he’d found out, not over the phone. He had to see her face-to-face. He comforted himself with the thought that tomorrow he might have some answers and could put an end to these unsettling events.

E
MILY HUNG UP THE PHONE
with a frown. Something was different. She could hear it in Jackson’s voice. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but he wasn’t as enthusiastic about finding their daughter as he’d been be
fore. He seemed resigned or disillusioned. She couldn’t decide which, and she wondered if there was something he wasn’t telling her. Something bad. No, she wouldn’t think like that. She just wished she could be with him, but he’d said he was going to the Bexar County courthouse to look for a birth certificate, which didn’t make any sense because there wouldn’t be one. After that, he planned to return to Rockport. That meant he did have something to tell her. She felt an uncanny sense of dread.

Becca burst into the room, drying her hair with a towel.

“Becca,” Emily complained, “why did you wash your hair? We need to get to the hospital as soon as possible. I want to catch the doctor to see when we can bring Mom home. She’s responding very well to the new medication.”

Becca sat at her makeup table and ran her fingers through her long, wet hair. “What’s the big deal? You’ve been there all day, and you can call the doctor.”

Emily let out a long sigh. “Don’t try my patience tonight.”

Becca turned to face her. “What’s the matter? You seem really tense.”

“Nothing.” Emily dismissed Becca’s question with a wave of her hand.

“You’re upset,” Becca insisted. “You’ve talked to Jackson, haven’t you.”

Emily glanced down at her hands and didn’t say anything.

Becca got up to sit beside her on the bed. “He hasn’t found anything on your daughter?”

“No,” Emily murmured.

Becca hugged her. “Sorry, Em.”

“It’s all right.” Emily brushed away a tear. “I’ve been praying and hoping, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Sorry,” Becca said again, then her face brightened,
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I volunteered you as a sponsor for the prom.”

“What?”
Emily’s eyes opened wide.

“Well, one of the sponsors has the flu and Mrs. Becker was in a panic. I told her my big sister would be glad to fill in. Besides, don’t you want to see if I get to be queen?”

Emily smiled, some of the sadness leaving her. “Yes, I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“Good, ’cause I also volunteered you to help us decorate. We’re having it in Corpus at a ballroom because our gym’s too small.”

“Becca!”

“Well, Mom and Dad don’t like to do those kinds of things and I thought you would.”

“I need to spend this time with Mom. That’s why I’m here instead of with Jackson.”

Becca’s face fell and Emily cursed herself.

“You’d do it for
her,
” Becca mumbled.

Emily didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. She knew. Becca was becoming very jealous of Emily’s daughter—a daughter Becca felt was threatening their relationship.

Emily smoothed the wet strands of her sister’s hair. “I’ll do it for you, too.”

“You will?” Becca asked hopefully.

“Yes, and Saturday when we get your hair done for the prom, we’re getting it cut.”

“Ah, jeez, Em. You’re taking the fun out of it.”

Emily smiled into her gorgeous eyes, knowing that no matter what happened she would always have Becca. She just wished Becca wasn’t so jealous of her daughter. The odds of finding that elusive daughter were getting slimmer and slimmer. She quickly suppressed the sobs that welled up in her throat.

J
ACKSON DIDN’T SLEEP MUCH
. He was too nervous. He was up at dawn, ate breakfast in his room, then went for a walk. After that, he headed for the courthouse and waited for it to open. If their daughter was adopted, there’d be no record of her birth, except in her adoptive parents’ name. He had to see if there was a birth record under
Baby Girl Cooper.
If not, he’d know with certainty that something underhanded had happened.

The woman at the desk was very polite and immediately directed him to someone else. Jackson thought this would be another runaround, but when he told the second woman what he wanted, she smiled and asked how he was related to the person on the certificate. He told her he was the baby’s father. She said she’d need some identification. He wasn’t surprised because he’d researched it on the Internet and knew exactly what the procedure was. They didn’t give information out freely. He showed her his driver’s license, his social security card and a copy from the hospital records that identified him as the father. She inspected the papers and said it would take a while, but she would get it. Jackson stood at the desk tapping his fingers impatiently, then stopped doing that, and started to pace. He couldn’t be still.

When he saw the woman coming toward him with a piece of paper in her hand, his stomach tightened painfully
and his breathing became labored. She had something—that meant…

She handed him the paper. “I’m sorry it took so long, but the child’s name is on the certificate and I had to make sure I had the right one.”

He stared at the birth certificate and everything in him shut down. He couldn’t speak or move, he just stared at the names on the paper.
Mother: Emily Ann Cooper. Father: Jackson Scott Talbert.
Seeing his name on the legal document made it all so real—so agonizingly real. He had a daughter, and her name was… As he read the name, the numbness exploded into a dire awakening that chilled his whole body. It couldn’t be. How could it?

“Sir? Sir?” He realized the woman was talking to him.

He blinked and tried to focus. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?”

He nodded, but he knew he wasn’t. Things would never be right again. How could that be the name on his daughter’s birth certificate? Was it a coincidence or something else? Did Emily know? Had she given their daughter this name? He should’ve asked her. Dammit, he should have asked, but he’d just assumed she hadn’t named their baby. So many questions charged through his head. Still, he had a feeling that Emily didn’t know about any of this. That it would be as much of a shock to her…

Jackson glanced at the woman. “Can I have this?”

“Once you pay the fee, it’s all yours,” she replied.

He laid the money on the counter. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. He walked away, the birth certificate clutched tightly in his hand.

He sat in his car and tried to make sense of what he was reading. He’d guessed that something underhanded had happened with the adoption, but he’d never expected this.

How long he sat there he didn’t know. He couldn’t stop
looking at the paper and he realized he had to show it to Emily. Maybe she could explain, but again he had the sinking feeling that Emily was in the dark. That worried him.

Before he told her, he had to have more facts. He didn’t want to upset her needlessly. The name could be a fluke. There had to be an answer that would explain everything, and he knew the truth lay in Rockport. How could he get the information he needed? The courthouse would only release information to a close relative or… He hurried back to his hotel and called Colton.

“What’s up?” Colton asked.

“I need the name of the private investigator who helped you get the goods on that girl who claimed you were the father of her child.”

There was a long pause. “What are you talking about?”

“I need a private investigator and I don’t have a lot of time. You gonna help me or not?”

“Slow down and tell me
why
you need an investigator.”

Jackson told him what he suspected and how he needed someone to get records from the courthouse in Rockport.

“Damn, Jackson, I’ll call him, but I doubt he can do it on such short notice. He runs a ranch outside San Antonio and he only leaves for special cases.”

“I’ll pay whatever he asks,” Jackson said. “Just talk to him.”

“I will, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Do it now. I’ll be waiting.”

Jackson paced his hotel room, constantly glancing at his watch. If the man refused to do it, he supposed he could get someone else. But Colton had liked the investigator and said he was honest and straightforward. That was the type of person Jackson wanted. Someone he could trust.

The phone rang and he yanked it up.

“You’re in luck—he’ll do it,” Colton said. “His name is Ethan Ramsey and he’ll be calling you in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Colton.” Jackson heaved a sigh of relief. “How did you get him to agree?”

“I used the old Prescott charm and, of course, he’s a friend of the family.”

“Thanks again. I owe you for this one.”

“Yeah, and I’m keeping a list.”

Jackson could hear laughter in his voice; he needed Colton’s sense of humor right now. He was wavering between insanity and hysteria.

“Jackson.” Colton was calling his name. “I hope it turns out the way you want.”

“I’m not sure about anything. I’m in a state of shock.”

“Good luck, and call if I can do anything else.”

Jackson hung up and paced again, waiting for the phone to ring. When it did, he took a couple of deep breaths before he answered it.

Ethan Ramsey had a strong, masculine voice and Jackson immediately liked the sound of him—direct and to the point. Jackson told him what he wanted, and Ethan said it shouldn’t be a problem. They arranged to meet at the Aransas County courthouse in Rockport in three hours.

Jackson quickly packed and checked out. He left San Antonio at eleven-thirty and was in Rockport before three. The urge to call Emily was strong, but he had to wait. He had to have final proof.

A white Chevrolet pickup truck drove up beside him and a tall man wearing a cowboy hat and boots clambered out. From what Colton had told him, the man had to be Ethan Ramsey. He walked with a slight limp; Jackson knew he was an ex-FBI agent who’d been shot in the line
of duty. He was a well-decorated law officer, another reason Jackson trusted him.

Jackson got out and they shook hands. He felt the calluses, which probably epitomized Ethan Ramsey—a man unafraid of hard work and unconcerned about appearances.

They talked for a moment, then Ethan went into the courthouse. He was out in fifteen minutes, shaking his head. The document Jackson wanted wasn’t there. Frustration overwhelmed him, but he wouldn’t give up. There had to be proof, but where? Ethan said he could go to Austin next week and check the records, but first he suggested they look in Corpus Christi, since the towns weren’t that far apart. Jackson was eager to try anything.

Forty-five minutes later, Jackson watched Ethan walk into the Nueces County courthouse. He leaned against his car and waited, hoping Ethan would find something to explain their daughter’s birth certificate. When Ethan came out carrying papers, Jackson’s heart raced into his throat.

Ethan handed him a piece of paper. “I think this is what you need.”

Jackson carefully read the birth certificate. It was just as he suspected, but it still didn’t make sense. “Yes, but…”

Ethan passed him another document. “This might help clarify it.”

Jackson’s hand shook as he read it. “Oh, my God, this explains everything.” He swallowed. “How did you get these?”

“I showed the county clerk my identification and told her about the case I was working on. Usually when you’re up front with people, they respond in kind. When I saw the first document, I asked for the other, and bingo—there it was. That’s the only way the scenario you described would make sense.”

“Thank you,” Jackson said. “I couldn’t have done this
without you. You can’t get information unless you’re a close relative or an investigator.”

“It keeps people honest,” Ethan replied. “If that’s all, I’ll drive back to my ranch.”

“Yes,” Jackson said in a daze, holding out a check.

Ethan shook his head. “No, thanks, Colton’s taken care of everything.”

Jackson frowned. “But he shouldn’t have. This is—”

“Don’t worry about it.” They shook hands and Ethan Ramsey walked to his truck.

Jackson just kept staring at the papers.
Proof.
He now had conclusive proof and it would devastate Emily. How did he tell her? Oh, God, how did he tell her this? He had to find her as soon as possible.

He called the hospital and spoke to Owen, who said she’d gone with Becca to do decorations for the prom. He told Owen he’d call her later. He drove back to Rockport and checked into the Holiday Inn and ordered a bite to eat. Later, he lay on the bed staring at his daughter’s birth certificate. It was real.
She
was real…now—and she had a name. He wanted to call his father, but he had to tell Emily first.

He called her again, but Owen said she was still with Becca. He wanted to go and find her, but he didn’t trust himself…not yet. Instead, he went for a walk on the beach.

W
HEN
E
MILY GOT IN
, Owen told her Jackson had called. She phoned the hotel in San Antonio right away and was informed that he’d checked out. That meant he was on his way to Rockport and could arrive at any minute. She waited and waited, which was pure torture. By midnight he still wasn’t there. Where
was
he?

She finally went to bed. When she woke up, there still was no sign of Jackson. She began to get an uneasy feel
ing. Unable to just sit around, she went to the hospital, leaving a message for Jackson if he called or came by the house. She didn’t want to miss him.

Emily’s time was running out. She had to be back at work next week and they weren’t any closer to finding their daughter than when they’d started. Why hadn’t Jackson called back? And why wasn’t he here this morning?

Rose was eating breakfast when she walked into the room. The color was back in her cheeks and she had far more energy. The new medicine was working; in fact, her doctor had promised she could go home the following week.

“Emily Ann, I’m so glad to see you,” her mother said. Rose’s disposition had improved tremendously and they could actually have a conversation without getting into an argument.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better.” She nibbled on a piece of toast. “Especially since you’ve given up on that awful idea of finding your daughter.”

Emily sat in a visitor’s chair close to the bed. “Why was it awful?” she couldn’t keep from asking.

Rose stopped eating. “Because it’s too late. She’s grown and has her own life now. Finding her would only hurt her—and you. It’s best to leave it alone.”

Emily took a long breath. “I can’t,” she said truthfully. “Try to understand that.”

“I wish I could.” Rose pushed food around on her plate. “But that Talbert man has put these ideas in your head.”

Emily stood and reached for her mother’s hand. On impulse she kissed it. She felt Rose stiffen. “I love him, Mom. I’ve always loved him.”

“You don’t mean that!”

“Yes, I do, and you’ll have to accept him as part of my life.”

“Emily Ann…”

“No.” Emily held up a finger. “Just be happy for me. That’s all I want from you.”

Rose stared down at her food and didn’t say another word, which Emily took as a good sign.

“I can’t stay long,” she said, changing the subject. “I’ve got to help Becca get ready for the prom. I’m taking her to have her hair cut.”

“She’s very picky about that hair,” Rose mumbled.

“I know, but it needs a trim.”

Rose glanced at her. “Rebecca says you’re going, too. That you’re filling in as a sponsor.”

“Yes, and I’ll take pictures so you can see everything.”

There was a pause, then Rose said, “I’d like that.” Emily sensed she was going to say something completely different—something about Emily missing her prom and how it was her own fault. The fact that she didn’t voice her opinion meant things were continuing to improve.

W
HEN
J
ACKSON WOKE UP
, it was noon. He stared at the clock, thinking it
had
to be wrong. But it wasn’t. He hadn’t slept much the last few nights and it’d caught up with him. Damn, damn, damn. Emily was probably wondering what had happened to him.

He called her immediately. She answered on the first ring, and he melted into her voice, needing her more than he would’ve thought possible.

“Jackson, where are you?” she asked anxiously. “I’ve been so worried!”

“In Rockport. At the Holiday Inn.”

“Oh, I wish I’d known. I’m sorry I wasn’t here last
night, but I waited and you never called back. I didn’t know what to think.”

“I fell asleep,” he admitted. “I didn’t wake up until just now.”

“I couldn’t imagine where you’d gone after leaving San Antonio.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard to figure out, Emily. I’ll always come to you. You can count on that from now on.”

“Oh, Jackson.” Her insides quivered at the promise in his voice.

Giggling voices interrupted the wonderful moment.

“Who’s that?” Jackson asked.

“Becca and her girlfriends. I’m taking them to get their hair and nails done for the prom.”

“Oh,” Jackson replied, feeling as if he was never going to get a moment alone with her. “When can you come here?”

“I don’t know. Becca volunteered me as a sponsor, so I have to go to the prom. Now I don’t want to. Oh, Jackson, I have to see you.”

When she mentioned the prom, he heard an eagerness in her voice. She’d missed her own prom and all the delightful things a girl experiences in her senior year. Maybe he could make a small part of that up to her.

“How would you like a date?”

“What?”

“I’m offering my services as an escort.”

“Jackson, do you mean it?”