Chapter Thirteen
“She’s beautiful,” Jeff said, closing the last photo album. “All three of them are. You and Wayne made beautiful children too.”
Maria chewed on her lower lip. Of course, she hadn’t been able to show Jeff Angie’s photos without showing him photos of Harper and Catie as well. They were all together in albums, along with Wayne himself. She’d considered removing as many of Angie as she could, but decided against it. After all, if Jeff came back to her, he had to know everything. And he had to make peace with everything.
Oddly, he’d seemed to. He and Harper were buddies, as a nephew and uncle should be. And he and Catie adored each other. As for Angie? Maria had noticed she was now calling Jeff “Daddy.” All was going fine. He hadn’t even winced when he looked at his brother in the photos—not even the photos of Wayne holding a beautiful newborn Angie.
Jeff was healing. Now if only he could forgive her as he had everyone else.
She cleared her throat and stood. “Would you like a glass of wine? I have a wonderful Cab in the cellar. It was one of Wayne’s—” She clamped her hand to her mouth.
“One of my brother’s favorites, huh?” He grinned. Not one line of displeasure crossed his face. “Well, Wayne always did have the best taste.” His gaze swept over her.
She warmed, and the familiar ache between her legs intensified. How she longed for this man.
“Well?”
“Sure, I’d love a glass. I’m sure I’m not the connoisseur of the finer things in life that Wayne was, but I do enjoy a nice Cab.”
Maria winced slightly at his words, but upon studying his face, she again noted no signs of resentment. “Wonderful. I’ll get some. I’ve hardly drunk any wine since Wayne died.” She might as well be truthful. “He loved a good tannic red, and he turned me on to them as well.”
She rose from the couch and didn’t look back for his reaction. When she returned from the cellar with the bottle, he was leafing through the album of Angie as a baby again. The other albums were piled on the coffee table.
“I think Little Jeff looks a lot like her,” he said. “Definitely the same nose.” He absently glided his fingers along his own nose.
Yes, he and Angie had the same nose. And now Little Jeff would no doubt have it too.
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Maria smiled, uncorked the bottle, and poured two glasses. She handed one to Jeff. “I hope you like it.”
He took a sip. “Mmm. Nice flavor. Makes my mouth a little dry.”
“That’s the tannins.”
He nodded, still looking at the photos. “He’ll be dark, like Rafe. It’s a shame none of your children got your olive complexion, Mia.”
She took a sip of wine and let the dry liquid roll over her tongue. “I was surprised too, but they all came out fair like you and Wayne. Remember how fair my mother was? My
daddy was a pretty dark Mexican.” She laughed. “Angie always envied me. She wanted to tan in the summer, but all she did was burn, peel, and then she was white again. Catie fared a little better, but Angie and Harp never tanned. She’ll be thrilled that Little Jeff has his father’s Native American coloring.”
Jeff took another sip of wine, his gaze riveted to the photos. He slowly turned page after page of photos he’d already seen, staring at each one as if to memorize it. Which, of course, he probably was. He hadn’t seen his daughter as a child. He’d missed so much.
Maria sniffed to hide the tears that wanted to fall. Get a grip. He needs you to be strong.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I can get something from the kitchen.”
He shook his head. “That lasagna hit the spot. You’re a good cook, Mia.”
She warmed, her cheeks tingling. She was a good cook and she enjoyed doing it, but although Jeff had eaten at her table a few times since he’d come to Bakersville, he’d never once complimented her cooking. Until now.
Dare she hope that things might be getting better between them? The arrival of Little Jeff had no doubt made a big difference. And Jeff had been there for his birth due to circumstance. It seemed only fair, since he hadn’t been there for Angie’s birth. Maria smiled.
Jeff turned and regarded her.
“Happy, Mia?”
She cleared her throat. “Why would you say that?”
“You had a dreamy smile on your face.” He reddened. “The same one I used to see on your face all the time. A long time ago. When you looked at me.”