over her lips. Jared had probably beat the world record this morning in that masculine sport.
âEmma made it for me.â
âWhat?â She glanced up sharply.
âThe paperweight.â He gestured to the crude sculpture in her hands. âEmma made it.â
âEmma?â Annie turned it over and noticed the inscription on the bottom: To Jared. E.R.S. âOh, yes. Your half sister. You want to tell me about her?â
He handed Annie a sandwich. âWe found out about her at the reading of J.T.âs will. Turns out that my father had an affair ten years ago with the architect who designed his house.â
âYou mean Stone Manor?â Annie asked, remembering the huge house that J.T.âs wife, Myrna Stone, had been so proud of and lived in still. Annie had never liked the place. It was cold and pretentious, like the woman herself.
Jared nodded. âThe architectâs name was Angela Roberts. She left when she found out she was pregnant. She never told my father, and it was several years before he finally hired a private investigator to look for her. The man managed to uncover the fact that Angela had had a baby, but unfortunately J.T. died before the mother or child could be found.â
Annie started to take a bite of her sandwich, then stopped. âBut...then, how did you, I mean...â
Jared reached behind him and opened the refrigerator. He pulled out two sodas and set one in front of Annie.
âJake continued the search. The P.I. found the child five months later. Only problemââ he popped the lid of his soda and it fizzed loudly ââwas that Angela Roberts had also died.â
Annie closed her eyes and released a long slow breath. âOh, Jared, Iâm so sorry.â
He stared at the soda can for a long moment, then nodded grimly.
âAnyway,â Jared continued, âwhen we found Emma a few months ago she was living with an aunt. It wasnât easy, but Jake talked the aunt into coming here with Emma for a visit.â A smile lifted one corner of Jaredâs mouth. âThen he married her.â
Annie still couldnât believe it. Jake, of all people, remarried. She remembered that when Jonathan had told Jake he was getting married, the first thing Jake had said was, âBetter you than me, bro. Have a dozen kids to make up for the ones I wonât.â Though heâd laughed as he said it, the smile never made it to his eyes.
The sandwich she was eating suddenly tasted like sawdust in her mouth. Annie had never had the chance to even marry Jonathan, let alone have his children. Sheâd almost thoughtâeven hopedâthat sheâd been pregnant when sheâd left that summer. Sheâd desperately wanted something of Jonathan she could have with her always, a part of him that she could love. A child.
But she hadnât been pregnant. She realized later, of course, that it was for the best, but at the time sheâd been disappointed.
She set the sandwich down and looked at Jared. âAnd now youâre here, too.â
âAnd now Iâm here.â
And so am I, she thought.
For a few minutes thereâd been an easiness between them, a connection that surprised her. But it was gone now, as if it were no more than a wisp of smoke.
And they were both abruptly aware that her visit was not of a social nature.
A weariness overcame her, and she felt a sudden desperate need to be alone. Away from here. She stood and rolled her shoulder to loosen the stiffness there.
âThanks for the sandwich, Jared, but I think Iâve done all Iâm capable of doing for now. Iâm beat. Itâs been a long drive here from Dallas. Why donât we start fresh tomorrow and take a look at the rig first thing in the morning? Say about nine?â
âAll right.â He set his sandwich down as if he, too, had lost his appetite. âWhere are you staying?â
Annie couldnât help but notice
Janwillem van de Wetering