Page 35 of The Promise in Poppies
She didn’t pull away, surrendering to the intimacy of the moment, and he gave her hand a grateful squeeze. “I honestly think I would’ve lived my entire life that way—not really living at all—if it weren’t for Chaplain Dan. He made me believe I wasn’t beyond saving. That I wasworthsaving.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” she murmured, lost in her thoughts. “How another person can have so much influence over us, for better or worse.”
He shifted onto his side, still holding her hand. She felt his gaze on her face, studying her. “During the meeting, you said the night of your father’s funeral changed everything. But it was more than the alcohol, wasn’t it?”
She nodded, tears suddenly burning her eyes.
“What happened, Donna?” Compassion flooded his voice. And something else. Something deeper. For reasons she didn’t think she’d ever understand, this man cared about her. Well-honed instincts developed over years of self-loathing told her to resist, to dissuade his misplaced affection. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to listen.
Relishing the snug, secure sensation of her hand in his, she exhaled slowly, releasing her confession in a single breath. “That was the night I became pregnant with Cassie.”
She watched as a microcosm of emotions flickered across his face. Surprise, concern, sadness, and finally, as realization settled, unbridled empathy.
“You were just a kid.”
“Seventeen. But I turned eighteen by the time Cassie was born.”
His gaze searched hers—warily, tenderly—as if he could detect signs of undisclosed sorrow in the depths of her eyes. “Were you—? Was it—?” He struggled to finish his thought, but she knew what he was trying to ask.
“Consensual?” His troubled expression told her that she’d guessed correctly. “I suppose it was. Although, neither of us was sober.”
His grip tightened, which oddly brought her comfort, as if to say if he’d been there, he would’ve looked out for her.
“I’m sorry, Donna. Having a kid that young must’ve been tough. Did the guy do the right thing, at least?”
“You mean marry me?” she asked wryly.
“I mean, did he take responsibility and pitch in? Has he been a good father to Cassie?”
Tears pooled in her eyes, spilling down the sides of her temples onto the warm wool blanket.
As if he knew exactly what her tears meant, Rhett pulled her against him, hugging her close as she cried softly. Cried for her younger self, scared, ashamed, and achingly alone. For so long, she’d wondered how their lives would’ve turned out if Cassie’s father had been someone different. What if he’d loved her? What if he’d wanted to raise Cassie together? Would her mother still have begged her to consider adoption?
Her mother’s features, pallid and wrinkled like worn, rumpled linens faded from drying too long in the sun, stared back at her from the past. Ever since her father’s death, her mother had withered to a lifeless imitation of her former self, slowly crumbling to dust from her own heartbreak. Heartbreak she wouldn’t share with Donna, even though they’d both lost someone they loved.
To make matters worse, Cassie had been a colicky baby, crying all hours of the night. After trying everything—feeding, changing, rocking, singing, and pacing the entire house—Donna had finally coaxed her daughter into dozing off. Exhausted, she’d collapsed onto the couch with Cassie in her arms, too tired to make it back to her own bed. Her mother had perched on the cushion beside her, her long flannel nightgown hanging from her too-thin frame.
Donna’s muscles had tensed in defensive anticipation, mentally reciting her mother’s words before they’d left her mouth. They were always the same; only the order changed.
She was too young for a baby. Too inexperienced. She needed to finish school, to go to college and see the world. While her mother was too old, too tired, and too unwell to raise another child. Cassie needed a mother and a father. She needed the kind of life they couldn’t provide. She’d be better off with another family. Wasn’t it time she did the right thing?
The right thing…
Donna had heard those words over and over, and yet, she couldn’t wrap her head around them. All she knew was that if her mother tried to take Cassie away, she didn’t think she’d survive. Her daughter was a part of her, as integral as her own pulse.
If only she’d known what the future held, maybe she wouldn’t have run away. Maybe if she’d known her fear and depression would lead her back to the bottle, she would have realized her mother had been right all along.
Right…
There was that word again. One syllable. So simple in sound yet so complex in meaning. Deep down, despite all the years of turmoil and her own remorse and misgivings over the choice she made, she still wasn’t sure what she should’ve done. Without the past, every dark moment and brief glimmer of good, they wouldn’t be together now. This slice of joy—reconnecting with her daughter, the thrill of a granddaughter, and a new, better life—wouldn’t exist.
She’d grown accustomed to carrying her regrets. Resigned to shouldering the weight without complaint. But what would it feel like to finally let go?
She found herself relaxing against Rhett’s chest. Her breathing slowed. Cocooned in his arms, she felt safe for the first time in years. And against all logic and reason, a reckless thought flickered through her mind.
What would happen if she decided to stay?
CHAPTER21
