Bringing Bella Back_A Second Chance Romance by Jean Brashear

Author:Jean Brashear [Brashear, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, contemporary
ISBN: 9781949970074
Google: m1LFwQEACAAJ
Amazon: 1949970078
Publisher: Jean Brashear
Published: 2019-05-15T16:47:34+00:00

Chapter Twelve

She was so nervous she’d already covered up the hole before she realized she’d put no bulb in it. A drop of sweat rolled down her nose and plopped on the leg of her jeans. She wiped it away impatiently and stabbed her trowel in the dirt to begin again.

“Daddy said you wished to see me.” The voice behind her was stiff.

Jane sat back on her heels, prayed for courage. Wished for Cam, his gawky exuberance.

Then she stood. Faced the daughter over whom she towered. Whom she wanted to love because—

Well, because she should.

You’re the mother, she chided. Set the tone. But she felt blind. Horribly, horribly awkward.

“I did—do,” she stumbled. “Good morning, Cele.” Oh, yes, you’re doing great. Just grand. “How are you?” Any more clichés you’d like to drag out?

“Fine.” Cele stood as stiff as her voice.

“Would you—have you eaten? I could fix you breakfast—”

“I’m not hungry,” Cele said in the same instant. “I have to leave soon.”

“Oh.” Jane’s heart hitched. “I, uh—” Then she remembered what James had told her about Cele and the family business. “To return to your work, I guess. Your father’s very proud of you. We’re proud of you,” she amended.

Cele’s face grew, if anything, stonier. “There’s no need to say that. I know I could be a stranger off the street as far as you’re concerned.”

“I’m sorry.” Don’t apologize. Well, James, that’s easy for you to say. “I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m doing all I can to—”

“You didn’t call me,” Cele blurted. “We talk nearly every day. I was worried sick.”

“Oh, Cele—” She longed to go to her, but she was afraid it was the wrong move. Afraid she’d make things worse.

Afraid, afraid, afraid. She was sick to death of living in fear. Always off balance and scared to take the next step.

Tired of being paralyzed by uncertainty, she moved toward her daughter, who was facing away, arms wrapped around her waist.

Cele had been abandoned in Romania for two years, left to the mercy of baby warehouses and exhausted, ever-changing staffs, James had told her over breakfast.

Did a part of that child always live within the lovely and poised young woman? Compassion had Jane reaching out, laying one hand on Cele’s shoulder.

Cele flinched.

Jane withdrew as if she’d been burned. She started to retreat—

But she found herself with an armful of daughter. Being gripped for dear life.

“You called me Muffin,” Cele whispered. Her tiny frame shook as she fought to hold back sobs.

Muffin. For a second, an image flickered, then was lost. She grasped for it, a too-quick impression of a little girl with crumbs all around her mouth, a shy grin, a muffin nearly as big as her head clasped in two tiny hands.

When it fled back into the dark maw of her mind, Bella cried out in despair.

Then clutched her daughter to her, instead. “Blueberry.”

Cele’s head rose swiftly, her eyes filled with hope. “Did you—?”

“You were so small.” She thought of the pinched look of the child. “So hungry.

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