“Just a few days. I’ll have to go back once the hearing is set, but in the meantime, Ronnie can come here with me. I should probably see about renting a house. I don’t suppose the boat is particularly childproofed.”
“I can look for you,” I say. “I don’t mind.”
He frowns at me, and my stomach twists. I want to be involved, and if he’s uncomfortable with me helping him look for a rental, how comfortable will he be with me in Ronnie’s life?
“Won’t that be hard?” he says.
I cock my head. “Um, why?”
“Long distance, I mean. From Santa Fe.” His brow furrows. “You’re going with me, aren’t you? For the weekend at least. And Monday if you can work from the road.”
The relief that sweeps over me is warm and sweet.
“Sylvia?” He brushes my cheek. “Why are you crying?”
“Sorry.” I wipe away a tear. “I’m just—I guess I hadn’t thought that you’d want me there.”
He pulls me close and holds me tight. “Sweetheart, I will always want you. More than that, I need you.”
twenty-seven
Jackson stood in the jet’s open doorway before descending the stairs. Above them, the sky burned as blue and bright as a sapphire, contrasting the browns and greens and reds of the mountains that rose in peaks and crags around them.
On the ground, the black tarmac spread out around the plane, like a smooth blanket covering this valley. He glanced around, but didn’t see a car, and both fear and disappointment cut into him.
“Are they here?” Behind him, Sylvia put her hand gently on his shoulder.
He shook his head. “No. Nobody.”
“Maybe the timing didn’t work out.” Sylvia moved into the doorway with him, her hand finding his and their fingers twining together. “Herding kids can be tricky, and Betty’s older. She could have easily gotten waylaid.”
He’d called Betty, Ronnie’s great-grandmother, before they left LA and suggested that she come meet the plane at the Santa Fe airport. Jackson had always flown into Santa Fe on commercial planes before, and he thought Ronnie might get a kick out of touring the private jet and maybe even sitting in the co pilot’s seat.
He hoped Sylvia was right and they were just running late. He’d thought that Betty supported his effort to become a true dad to Ronnie. And he damn sure hoped he wasn’t wrong about that.
It was bad enough that Megan was putting up barriers. He loved her like a sister, and he hated the fact that she was opposed to his decision, especially when she was in no condition to care for Ronnie anymore.
Bottom line, he wanted his daughter. And he hoped to hell that getting her wasn’t going to land them both in the middle of a family feud.
Surely it wouldn’t come to that? Would it?
He’d done so much to get Ronnie back. Taken so many personal risks. But he was all-in now, and he would do what it took. Whatever it took.
He only hoped the price wouldn’t be too high.
“It’s going to be fine,” Sylvia said, as if reading his mind. “You’re doing the right thing, and it’s all going to work out.”
He turned and saw her looking up at him, her expression so ferocious in its sincerity that it twisted him up inside. Without even planning to, he pulled her close, one arm around her waist and the other cupping the back of her head. He heard her surprised gasp, then took that opportunity to kiss her.
She melted against him, as if right then, he was the only thing that existed in her world. And that moment—that reaction—gave him strength.
He held her longer, not wanting the kiss to end, not wanting to feel that sense of loss when he let her go. So he let his lips linger on hers until he finally had the strength to pull away.
“Thank you,” he said.
Her smile was bright and pleased. “You’re very welcome, but what exactly are you thanking me for?”
“For believing in me. For coming with me. For watching my back.” He paused for no more than the length of a heartbeat. “For loving me.”
“Mmm.” She slid her arms around him again. “In that case, you really are welcome.”
They stood like that for a moment longer in the open doorway of the Stark International jet. When they broke apart, her eyes were dancing. “The crew probably wants to disembark. Maybe it’s time to brave the stairs?”
“It probably is.” He took one step, then another, with Sylvia right behind him. When he was on the third step, two cars pulled up and parked on the tarmac a few yards from the plane. The first, a dark blue Mercedes that he knew belonged to Betty. The second, a four-door Oldsmobile sedan that he didn’t recall seeing before.