Their next stop was at Walmart, where Laurel walked Hugo in the grass margin while Sarah went in “to pick up a few things you’ll need.” Twenty minutes later she was back with a full cart.
“This is my late Christmas present,” she announced breezily, extracting a red leather collar with manly studs on it from the pile, slipping it around Hugo’s neck, and attaching a matching leash. Then, as Laurel held the big dog in check, Sarah hefted a heavy bag of dog food and a luxurious-looking dog bed into the back of her car. Bowls, a chew toy, and a jar of dog treats completed her perception of canine necessities.
Laurel got in the car and looked back at Hugo, and he moved forward to nuzzle her neck. “Thank you, Sarah. This is the best Christmas and birthday I’ve ever had.”
*
Jase told himself he really had meant to get in touch with Laurel again in a day or two, but somehow a whole week slipped by without his calling. He wanted to explain everything to her, but he didn’t know what to say, because he was still in a mental turmoil. And then he didn’t know how to explain his delay.
He loved her, but he still couldn’t put his head around her father and who he really was—the saintly pastor or the man who…who did what he did?
And then Lolly came home from a three-day tennis camp with a sunburn, her expensive racket, and a lot of questions about his relationship with Laurel that he couldn’t answer even if he wanted to. He’d always encouraged her spunk, but didn’t like it when she directed it at him.
Right now she was standing in front of his desk, her hands fisted at her waist like the Jolly Green Giant, but she wasn’t in the least jolly.
“So that’s it. Just like that, you left Laurel high and dry? Here you’ve been dreaming about her all your life, and you’ve got her at last, and you’re letting her go?”
Jase looked up from behind his desktop computer and a barricade of work papers. Damn it, couldn’t she see he was busy? “Don’t speak to me in that tone of voice, young lady! Laurel Harlow is my business, not yours!”
Had he really deserted Laurel? He hadn’t thought of it that way. He’d told her he’d be in touch. And he would, as soon as he sorted her out from her father.
Lolly’s eyes flashed. “If she’s going to be a part of the family, she’s my business too! She’d be my stepmother, so it’s important whether I like her or not!”
“Well, do you?”
She gave him the “duh” look. “What do you think? Yes, I like her very much. I want you to marry her. Now, are you going to?”
Jase glared at his daughter, but she didn’t back down. She never did. He studied her militant stance, her bouncing curls and sparkling eyes, the cute summer outfit designed to show off her precocious figure.
She narrowed her eyes and tightened her mouth. “Well, are you?”
Jase ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know.”
Exhaling in disgust, Lolly turned on her heel and stalked off.
He felt like a fool.
Maxie attacked him next, but she was more subtle. “Laurel Harlow is such a lovely girl,” she mentioned in a casual voice as they sat together on the patio that evening. “And you did spend a lot of time with her. I do hope we’ll be seeing her again, Jason. Perhaps she could visit us for a week or so.”
He didn’t answer. Everybody was on his case, damn it. When Craig Freiberg called from Bosque Bend to report on the latest with the Anderson tract, he artlessly let it fall that Laurel had said Jase would be staying in Dallas from now on. Obviously Craig was fishing for more information about their breakup, but Jase left him dangling.
God, is that what he had done to Laurel—exposed her to still more speculation and gossip?
He should go right back to Bosque Bend today and assure her that he still loved her. But at the moment he had a lot to catch up on with the business. As soon as all that was settled, he and Laurel could straighten everything out. Yeah, once he got his mind in gear, he could figure out exactly how to handle the situation with Laurel.
*
But there was no relief in sight. Bright and early the next morning, Lolly continued her campaign. “If Laurel Harlow isn’t my mother, who is?” she demanded, hauling out the old annual and opening it to a marked page. “Is it that one?” She pointed to a blond, bubbly cheerleader whom she vaguely resembled.
“God, no! She wouldn’t have given me the time of day.”
Maxie took Jase aside later. “You’ve got to tell her, Jase. She’s driving me crazy.”
“I will,” he sighed. “When she’s old enough.”
Four days later, Lolly had flown the coop.
Chapter Seventeen
Lolly’s off on another wild-goose chase,” Maxie said, calling him at the office. “It’s the mother thing again. She left a note on her pillow, and the maid saw her getting into Chloe Ginsburg’s little red car half an hour ago, about three o’clock.”
Jase closed down his computer with fingers that had turned stone-cold.
“Where to?”