What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)(11)

Somehow she’d been lured into dangerous territory. What Lolly said was logical, but the way she said it implied a lot more. But if she launched into a denial, it would seem she was being unduly defensive, making Lolly more certain than ever that she really was her mother.

She let it pass. This was really Jase’s business, not hers.

Lolly’s eyes wavered and she licked her lips. “Aunt Maxie—Aunt Maxie said you were a friend of my dad’s when he lived here in Bosque Bend.”

A change of subject. Maybe Lolly had realized it was terminally rude to try to lay claim to someone as your mother less than an hour after meeting her.

“Yes. We would visit every Wednesday after school when he came to the house for counseling with my father.”

“Do you know who my mother is?”

Back to the starting point. “Lolly, I do not know who your mother is, and I will not discuss the matter any further.” She tilted her head questioningly and lowered the boom. “Do you want me to call your father to come over now and pick you up?”

Lolly half rose from the table. “No, don’t call him! I don’t want to go yet! I want to stay here with you tonight! Please, I won’t be a bother, I promise!” Big blue eyes shimmered across the table. “I’ll go with Dad tomorrow afternoon. Just let me stay here until then.”

To her surprise, Laurel realized that she wanted Lolly to stay. Because she was Jase’s daughter, of course, but also because her curls bobbed when she talked, her eyes signaled as much as her voice, and she was so intense and fearless—a breath of fresh air in a house that had been shut up much too long.

“Well, okay, if your father agrees. But we’ll have to go to the den and call him to let him know you’re here, safe and sound.”

Laurel rose from the table, and Lolly reached out to clasp her hand. “Thank you.” She flashed the heartbreaking Redlander smile. “This is so important to me.”

*



Jase rolled over on the first ring and picked up his mobile from the floor beside the bed. His hand trembled as he pushed the icon.

Please, please, please…

“Jase, this is Laurel. Lolly’s here with me, and she’s okay.”

A two-ton elephant lifted off his shoulders. He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“I think it would be best if you waited a while. She’s feeling a bit—well—unsettled. I’ll call you when she’s ready, maybe tomorrow afternoon.”

Instantly he was all father. “There’s a problem?”

“No, no—it’s just that she’s tired right now. She’ll be fine tomorrow.”

He frowned. Laurel’s answer seemed to come a little too quickly. “Be honest with me. Is Girl Child giving you trouble? There’s not much traffic at this time of night, and I bet I can cut my time to fifteen minutes.”

“Trouble?” Laurel sounded surprised. “Not at all. She’s charming. I’ll enjoy the company, and I think I can help.”

Jase relaxed. “I’ll wait till tomorrow, then.”

Like father, like daughter. Maybe Laurel could work the same miracles with Lolly that Reverend Ed had with him. His relationship with Girl Child had become particularly fractious lately. Maxie said it was because she was fifteen, but he’d been worried enough to consult a psychologist, who basically told him the same thing—that Lolly was testing her limits and asserting an adulthood she hadn’t quite reached yet, that everything would be up and down for a while, but they’d both survive if he kept his cool. But it was damn hard for him to keep his cool when she wouldn’t let him keep her safe.

*



Laurel was trying to gently hustle her guest up the stairs, but it was slow going. Lolly’s eyes were overbright, and she’d gotten her second wind.

“Oh, wow! Awesome! That mirror in the foyer, and the chandelier! Like something out of Phantom of the Opera!”

Laurel couldn’t help but glance up, even though she’d walked under the same light fixture every day of her life.

“And the grain of the wood!” Lolly caressed the banister. “Killer! Is it walnut?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Your house is like a museum—or a royal palace! Aunt Maxie and I made a tour of European castles last summer.” She did a three-sixty survey of the foyer, then looked at Laurel, two steps above her. “Everything’s so old and beautiful! And these paintings…” She gestured at the ascending display of deceased Kinkaids. “You must get a total charge out of living here!” Her glance swept up the stairway. “How many bedrooms do you have?”

That one Laurel knew the answer to. “Ten in all, but the ones on the third floor have been closed off for ages. There are four on the second floor—two smaller ones and two large suites. I use one of the smaller ones, and I’m putting you in the one across the hall.”

Lolly indicated the gilt-framed portrait on the wall beside her. “Are these your grandparents?”

“No, they’re my parents.” It was her favorite picture of Mama and Daddy. Somehow the artist had done a better job of capturing Daddy’s intrinsic goodness and Mama’s gentle warmth than any photographer ever had.

“Dad talks about your father a lot, you know. He says Reverend Ed was the kindest, wisest person he’s ever known.”