Page 79 of Second Chance Saloon

The muscles in her throat tightened as she held her breath. “I don’t think so.”

She turned on her heel, but before she walked off, Mimi called after her: “She used to be part of your life. Remember Weronika?”

Jackie halted, shock pushing against her chest. “Mom’s friend?”

Her mind scrambled to think of the last time she’d seen Weronika. She used to come to the ranch regularly when Jackie was younger, but then she stopped. It might’ve been her tenth birthday, or maybe eleventh, when Weronika was here last. A shiver skittered down her spine as she recalled Weronika’s big blue eyes, her soft long hair, her accent …

This was absurd. She couldn’t be her mother. Why would Sharon have been friends with her if she was? Why would her parents let her visit? Why would no one have ever told her? Surely, this couldn’t be true, could it? Someone would’ve told her.

Her stomach capsized under the weight of a betrayal too heavy to process. Anger constricted her heart.

Her parents loved her, Mimi loved her … Why would they have let Weronika come and see her if she was her mother?

“I probably should let your dad tell you the rest.” Mimi dropped her gaze, her normally tough exterior crumbling. She pushed the envelope into Jackie’s chest. “For when you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Jackie said but her shaking fingers wrapped around the paper, pressing it to her heart. Without thinking and without waiting for Mimi’s reaction, she marched through the house and stormed inside her father’s study.

“How could you, Dad?” Jackie yelled, pushing the door open. “How could you keep this from me?”

Fred spun around on his leather swivel chair. His thick black hair, streaked with gray, was disheveled, probably in need of a haircut. He pushed his thick-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose, blinking at Jackie. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Jackie slammed the envelope on top of his mahogany desk. “I got a letter today. From Weronika, remember her? The woman I called an auntie until I was eleven? Yeah, turns out she’s my biological mother.”

Fred’s throat bobbed up and down with a swallow. “Oh.”

Pacing the opulent, wood-paneled room, Jackie threw her hands up in the air. “Oh? Is that all you’ve got to say?”

Her lungs pumped hard, trying to keep up with her thundering heart. Fury and disappointment vibrated through her body. She had so much to say, but at the same time didn’t know where to even begin. She’d never imagined she would be having this conversation with one of her favorite people in the world. Her father, her hero, someone she looked up to since she’d been a little girl.

And this entire time, he’d been hiding this from her.

Fred laced his hands over his right knee, considering his daughter. “I don’t think there’s anything I could say to make you less angry. But if you sit down and stop shouting, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Her shoulders hunched forward, and she straightened her spine. She pursed her lips and dropped on the leather couch, pushing herself as far against its back as she could, arms crossed.

Fred shot her a cautious smile. “What would you like to know?”

“Where did you meet?” Jackie blurted, before taking time to consider the question.

Fred groaned, raking his hand through his hair.

Jackie stared at him expectantly. “You said you’ll tell me whatever I want to know.”

He sighed. “Vegas.”

Her brow lifted.

“I know, how cliché is that. But I was young … Well, youngish at least, I was thirty-eight when I met Weronika. She was the kind of woman who lights up a room. You couldn’t walk past without noticing her. We were sitting at the same table for blackjack … and things happened from there.”

Jackie knotted her arms tighter over her chest. “You slept with her.”

“I did. And it wasn’t the last time. We spent the rest of the week together, having the best time. Then, we kept meeting in Vegas for the next few months.” Fred paused, his eyes boring into the bookshelf in the corner of the room, like he wanted to avoid looking at Jackie.

Bile lodged high in her throat. She’d never thought much about her biological mother. There hadn’t been a reason to. She knew she was her father’s daughter, and Sharon had always treated her like her own daughter, never making her feel any differently than as if she’d given birth to her herself.

“I was head over heels for her. I’d have done anything to keep her in my life,” Fred said on an anguished exhale.

“Well, at least you loved her,” Jackie said, her tone laced with bitter sarcasm. “Guess I should be happy about that, I think.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. Then, she swallowed, the only question worth asking slipping off her tongue: “Why didn’t she want me?”