He released her hands so that he could take her in his arms, and she leaned into his chest, loving the comfort. The strength. She scrubbed at her face with the fuzzy hem of the afghan and felt like a little kid again. Safe and protected. The way she had with Daddy.
It had been so long since she’d had anyone to hold her when she was upset. Her sigh was ragged as she leaned her cheek against the soft T-shirt he wore stretched over his chest, and slowly, she felt her body begin to relax.
Tears dripped off the end of her nose, making little dark patches just over his heart. She knew she must be a mess. Her cheeks had to be splotchy—they always were when she cried—and her nose must be as red as a tomato. What with her messy hair and rumpled clothes, she knew she had to look a sight. Even so, something about Wyatt always made her feel unconditionally accepted.
“Where is she?” she asked.
“With your mother.”
“My mother?”
“I called her—”
Annie levered off his chest. “Let me get this straight. You called my mother?”
“Yep. And I asked if she’d mind taking Em in for a little while. Since she lived alone and all, I figured she might have the room.”
“And she said yes?”
“Sure. Just until we get this thing straightened out, of course. Your sister is going to help, too, staying with her when your mom can’t.”
“You called my sister?”
“You have a very nice family, Annie.”
“Yeah, well, I knew that. I just didn’t know you knew that.”
“They’ve forgiven me.”
“I guess so.”
Annie curled her feet under her body and snuggled closer. Leaning her head back against his arm, she peered up into his face. “She’ll be safe with Mama.”
“I thought so.”
“Did they catch him?”
Wyatt gave his head a single shake and rested his chin on the top of her head. “No.”
“Oh.”
“He got away, just before Toby arrived. Seems he’d been hiding in her apartment a while, waiting for her to come home.”
“But why? Why he would break in and then wait for her? Was he some kind of stalker?”
Wyatt was silent, but to Annie, it spoke volumes.
“This has happened before, hasn’t it?”
In a surprise that was dulled by fatigue, Wyatt stared at her. “How did you know?”
“You’ve been as protective as a henhouse rooster with a fox on the loose. Wyatt, I know it’s a cruel world out there, but this is Keyhole. The one town in this country where keys, until today, were never really needed.”
He closed his eyes and let his head loll against the back of the couch. “I’m not supposed to talk about this.”
“But you are.”
First he shrugged. Then he nodded.
“Am I going to need a cup of coffee and a brownie to hear this?”
For the first time that evening, there was a small spark of interest in his eyes. “You made brownies?”
“Yes.”
“With fudge frosting and walnuts?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“I love fudge frosting and walnuts.”
“I remember.”
He was quiet for a long moment. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and glanced around the room. Annie could tell he was battling old tapes that played in his head and knew that the attack on his sister brought up struggles he’d had with his own childhood. Feelings of being out of control. Feelings of powerlessness. Defenselessness. She could tell he wanted to exact revenge, but couldn’t and that left him frustrated and angry. Gently, she brushed his hair back out of his eyes and then let her fingers stray down the sides of his face to cup his jaw.
She wanted to tell him she loved him. But instead she simply said, “I could whip up a fresh pot of decaf.”
Without ceremony, he shoved Annie off his lap. “Let’s go.”
In the deep of the night—over warm brownies topped with heaping scoops of vanilla bean ice cream—Annie and Wyatt sat in her breakfast nook, eating, sipping decaf coffee and talking. Wyatt had finally begun to relax. The brownies were ambrosia and the homey, warm kitchen, a safe haven from life’s cruel realities. He savored every moment, storing away this secret time with Annie together with the rest of the memories of her that he held in his heart to see him through future lonely times.
“So, you’re telling me,” Annie paused and pointed at Wyatt with her fork, “that the woman I met, back when we were in college, wasn’t really your foster mother, but an impostor?”
Mouth full, Wyatt nodded, then swallowed. “Weird, huh?”
“It’s like something out of a soap opera. Tell me. How come not one single one of you ever realized she wasn’t Meredith?”
“Well, first off, she didn’t look any different. Secondly, Meredith had never told anyone that she’d had a twin sister. Thirdly, she’d been in a pretty bad car wreck. We just figured that the change in personality had come from that nasty bump on the head.”
“Okay, let me see if I’m following you. Patsy is Meredith’s twin sister—”
“Yeah.”
“And in a crime of passion she stabbed the father of her baby to death with scissors after he sold the baby into the black market, and then she tried to blame the whole murder on her sister, Meredith, but when that didn’t work she went to jail and then to a mental ward and when she escaped from there, she ran your foster mother off the road and killed her.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
Annie squinted. “Are you making this whole thing up?”
“I wish.”
“Okay.” She waved her fork in a loose circle. “We’ll give her the benefit of the doubt on your mother’s murder. Now, where were we?”
“She ran Meredith off the road…” Wyatt blew across the rim of his mug and smiled at her avid interest in the history of his family.
“Oh, right. And Emma-Emily, actually, remembered seeing ‘two’ mommies at the crash site before she passed out.” Annie stabbed at her pie. “Wow. An evil twin. The stuff of all the really good fairy tales.”
“Kinda makes you wonder which one of your boys is the baddy, huh?” he teased, lightening the mood.
“They take turns.” Annie chuckled with him for a moment, then sobered. “So, since Emily might blow the whistle on Patsy, her life is in danger?”
“Looks like it.”
“And the shooting at Joe’s birthday party? That was her, too?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Don’t know about that. We do know that Patsy’s not keen on giving up her lifestyle. Maybe she felt Joe was getting too close to the truth.”
“She’s crazy.”
He nodded. “Like a fox.”
“Tell me you did it.”
Snake Eyes took a long, steadying drag on his cigarette and brushed the tickling fingers out of his free ear. “Not—” he exhaled a long, gray stream and coughed “—yet.”
“Not yet? Not yet?” Patsy’s shrill voice filled one of his ears and the whispered giggles of a barfly filled the other. “What am I paying you for?”
Snake Eyes winced as he shifted his battered body to better accommodate the not-so-slight woman on his lap. Leaping out the brat’s window probably hadn’t been such a good idea. He had the battle scars and the dog bites to prove it. Not to mention the walloping he’d gotten from the brat. But the cops were coming and the front door was covered with a jillion damned locks and so what the hell was he supposta do?
He ducked his head to keep the drunk that was slobbering on the back of his neck from hearing. “I tried to do the job tonight, but she came home an hour early and caught me by surprise.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “The cops showed up, so I had to get out of there.”
“You id-i-ot!” Patsy fired the three separate syllables as if they were bullets in a semi-automatic. “Now she knows you’re in Keyhole! Now the cops know you’re in Keyhole!” Snake Eyes could practically hear her face turning red and the phone felt suddenly hot. “This is twice, now, that you’ve dropped the ball! This is a simple job! Just do it!”
Snake Eyes sucked his cigarette down to the butt and clouds of thick smoke belched from nostrils. “I have to lay low for a few days. Give things a chance to cool down around here.”
“You have until the end of the week. Then I want results.”
Hands shaking, Snake Eyes slammed down first the phone, and then a shot of whiskey with a beer chase. That witch reminded him just a little too much of his mother. When he got a hold of her, he was gonna do to her what he shoulda done to his mother a long, long time ago.
And it would feel good.
“Mom? I had to go potty and the lights were on down here and I— Oh! Hey, Mom! Wyatt’s here!”
“Hey, Sport-o!”
As if he couldn’t believe his good fortune, Alex ground his fists into his eyes, then peered again at Wyatt. “Look, Mom! It’s him! See? I told you he’d come!” Alex shuffled over to Wyatt and standing next to his chair, leaned against his arm. “Wyatt, are you here to read us a story?”
“Is your brother awake?”
“Yeah. He’s up in the bathroom now.”
“Okay, then. You go hop back up in bed. I’ve got two new books we can read, if it’s okay with your mama.”
Annie nodded, loving the exuberant expression on her son’s small face. “It’s okay. I’m just going to straighten up down here. I’ll be up in a few minutes to kiss you guys good-night.”
“All of us?” Wyatt asked.
Alex looked at his mother with interest.
“Yes, all of you.”
“Promise?” Wyatt gave his brow a rakish waggle.
“Promise.” Laughing at his comical expression, Annie waved them off and set to putting their coffee cups and plates in the dishwasher. As the guys moved from the kitchen and through the living room, she could hear Alex chattering away at Wyatt, and the sounds of Wyatt locking the front door.
“Sean Mercury came over to borrow some eggs for his mom after you left tonight. He says you’re probably gonna marry our mom pretty soon, cuz you guys been kissin’.”
Annie froze, listening for Wyatt’s response.
“And how does this Sean kid know I kissed your mama?”
“I told him.”
“That so?”
“Yep.”
“So. When do you suppose Sean thinks I ought to ask her?”
“Pretty soon. You could do it right now, if you want to.”
“I thought I was supposed to read you a story now.”
“Oh. Yeah. Well, then, you can ask her tomorrow.”
“You’d like that?”
“Sure! Then you’d be our dad. We never had a dad before.”
“You had a dad, kiddo. He just had to go to heaven a little bit earlier than he’d planned. But he’s still your dad.”
The boy’s voice grew faint as he reached the top of the stairs and moved down the hall. “Well, then he can be our heaven dad, and you can be our real-life dad.”
“You have it all worked out, huh?”
“Yep.”
Blinking back the tears, Annie stretched plastic wrap over the pan of brownies, put it in the refrigerator, then wiped down the counter tops. More than anything, she wanted her children to know the security of a father’s special brand of love. But not if it meant uprooting their life and making everyone unhappy in the process.
She was needed here in Keyhole. She had a mother to look after. Friends. Family. History. There was a business to run. A business that had been in the Summers family for generations.
Plus, the big city did not hold the allure it used to, when she was a kid. Unless she pictured that city as Wyatt’s home. Then—she sighed and stared unseeing at her blurry reflection in the window—the thought of living in the city took on a whole new excitement.
But still. It wasn’t just herself anymore. She had her boys to consider. MaryPat. Brynn. What was left of Carl’s family.
Oh. Confusion made her head ache. She wadded up a pile of kitchen towels and cleaning rags and, moving to the service porch, started a load of laundry. Just last week her life had seemed so uncomplicated. Now everything was upside down. She had the strangest feeling that terminally snoopy Sean Mercury might just be right. What if Wyatt did indeed want to pick up where they left off so many years ago and marry her? Build a family with her? What then?
She pulled a load of whites out of the dryer and began to fold them on the top of the chest freezer, her mind clicking away like the keys on a computer.
Damn him.
She rolled pairs of socks together and fired them into a laundry basket. Damn him for waltzing back into her life and making her vulnerable all over again. It had taken her so long to recover from all the loss she’d suffered, and now, thanks to him, another loss hovered on the horizon.
If she decided to follow him, she lost her family.
If she sent him away, she lost her heart.
Laundry basket propped on her hip, Annie moved down the hall to her son’s room. The deafening silence puzzled her. She’d have thought that the sounds of space monsters on the loose would have been rattling the rafters by now. She set the basket on a marble-topped washstand and stepping to the doorway stopped and took in the scene before her.
Wyatt, far too long and lanky for Noah’s kiddie bed, was leaning back against the headboard, his head cocked at an angle that would require a chiropractic team first thing in the morning. One leg was propped on the floor, the other on the footboard. His mouth hung slack and he snored ever so slightly. Her sons, one tucked under each of his arms, were also in dreamland, their heads rising and falling with his chest as he breathed. The book they’d been reading lay cockeyed on Wyatt’s stomach.
Chopper was curled at the end of the bed, against Wyatt’s leg.
Annie gripped the door frame and, as she gazed at the poignant scene before her, was filled with a strange combination of peace and melancholy. In just a few short days he would be leaving for Liza’s wedding in Prosperino. After that, he might come back to check up on Emily, but surely, he couldn’t stay. Just like her, he had a business to run. Friends. Family. A life of his own. A life she knew nothing about.
Swallowing back the myriad feelings that she was too tired at—she glanced at the Mickey clock on the nightstand—3:00 a.m. to sort out, Annie padded across the room. As promised, she bent and kissed all three of them on the forehead. Gently, she lifted the book and set it aside, then straightened the covers to better keep them all warm.
Wyatt shifted in his sleep, not disturbing the boys in the least as they all rolled over, a tangle of arms and legs. Chopper stood, circled twice, and fell back to the bed. Hand over her mouth, Annie stood a while longer, watching and loving so hard, it hurt.
Over the next three days, Wyatt spent all of Emily’s free time together with her at MaryPat’s house. Sometimes, he could coax her out for a walk, or over to Annie’s place, but emotionally, she was a bundle of nerves, starting at every loud noise and having trouble sleeping because of the nightmares. The only place she felt truly safe was at the café, she claimed. Wyatt wanted her to take some time off and get some rest, but Emily said that at least at work she didn’t have time to dwell on the memory of the second attack.
Again, she’d been lucky and only suffered minor cuts and bruises as she’d scuffled with the man who she was positive had followed her to Keyhole from Prosperino. He, on the other hand, had been brutalized by her phone, a potted plant, a lawn chair and the business end of a golf umbrella.
Wyatt couldn’t begin to find the words to describe the pride he felt in Emily. She was a scrapper. Even so, she needed protection.
Each day, after he’d seen Emily safely to work for her morning shift—and exacted promises from Roy, Geraldine and Helen that they wouldn’t let her out of their sight until he could take her back to MaryPat’s—Wyatt would wander next door and help Annie out at the shop.
In a very short amount of time he’d learned a great deal about antiques and, though his methods were slightly unorthodox, his sales record was impressive. Of course, being the type-A personality that he was, there was a friendly, not-so-subtle sales competition between him and Annie. And between him and MaryPat, when she would come in for her part-time shifts. And between him and Brynn when she would pop in to relieve Annie for lunch.
That Thursday evening, Brynn dropped by as Wyatt, Annie and MaryPat tallied up their sales receipts. The boys shot Matchbox cars under their mother’s desk while the adults worked. It was a drizzly spring day there in the little town of Keyhole and mist clung to the mountain tops and drifted between the trees. It was so incredibly beautiful here. As Wyatt stared out the window in Annie’s office, he could understand so perfectly now why Joe had such blissful memories about his childhood years here in Wyoming. Though it was growing dark outside, inside Annie’s cluttered office, it was bright and cheerful and cozy warm.
Wyatt shifted his gaze from the window to Annie’s desktop, where he squinted at the tidy columns in her accounting book. Fingers flying over the ten key, she tallied their individual daily totals.
“I’m winning,” Wyatt bragged. “Brynn, I hate to say this, but I embarrassed you all over the place today.”
“Oh, no you didn’t!”
“Yes indeedy.” He pointed to his column. “Read ’em and weep, sister.”
“Yeah, you think you’re pretty tough, don’t you? Well, after I sold that butter churn during lunch hour today,” Brynn boasted, “I went out and sold the old Cooper farm to a couple from L.A. It’s been on the market for five years!”
“Butter churn? Big deal. And the Cooper farm doesn’t count.” Wyatt waved a dismissive hand. “I sold an armoire and a dresser during lunch and still had time to eat sandwiches with Emma and the boys.”
A small smile played at Annie’s lips as she listened to his silly banter with her mother and sister.
“I ate a whole one,” Noah bragged.
“So did I,” Alex put in.
“You didn’t eat the crust,” Noah accused.
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Boys, please. I’m trying to point out that I kicked your Aunt Brynn’s butt today.”
“You did?” Noah asked, jaw slack.
“Where was I?” Alex wondered aloud.
Brynn planted her hands on her hips. “Did I mention that I also sold a hundred-year-old soup tureen?”
“Ooooo. I’m scared.”
Brynn blew a raspberry at him.
“Listen, sonny,” MaryPat warbled, “you sell a puny armoire and a dresser and you think that makes you somebody. Well, I’ll have you know I sold two—count ’em, two—of those ugly Madrilla vases.”
Wyatt quirked a brow. “You did? Which ones?”
“That hideous yellow one with the pink and orange flowers and the green sort of art deco thing with the garish burros.”
“Get outta here! You sold those?”
“Before 9:00 a.m.” MaryPat huffed on her nails, then burnished them on her vest. “So, I ask you, who’s number one?”
“You are. I’m definitely not worthy.”
Brynn and MaryPat hooted as he bowed down.
“Actually,” Annie said, “Wyatt comes in first with nearly three thousand dollars—”
Wyatt jumped up and jammed an imaginary basketball through an imaginary hoop. “He shoots, he scores!” His silly antics got the boys all riled up and they danced about at his feet, jabbering and laughing and pawing at his clothes.
“I wanna play basketball,” Noah screamed.
“Let’s play!” Alex squealed.
Annie had to raise her voice to be heard above the hubbub. “I came in with nearly fifteen hundred. Mom, you did a little over five hundred, and, Brynn, you did two fifty. All in all, a blockbuster day. Thank you very much, you guys.”
“Yeah, well, tomorrow I’m gonna be the queen butt-kicker, buddy,” Brynn blustered at Wyatt.
“Oh, no, you’re not.” Wyatt picked up the boys and began to gallop around the office.
“And why may I ask not?”
Wyatt stopped and let Noah slide to the floor. “Because I have to go back to California tomorrow morning.”
At this announcement the room went suddenly silent. Wyatt and Annie exchanged glances, then regarded the bewildered faces of the rest of her family with trepidation.
“You’re leavin’?” Alex’s voice quavered as he leaned back in Wyatt’s arms and looked into his face.
“But you just got here,” Noah protested from where he clung to Wyatt’s legs.
Brynn and MaryPat remained quiet but were obviously curious.
“I have to go to my cousin’s wedding.”
“Do you hafta?”
“I’m afraid so, buddy.” Wyatt slowly lowered Alex to stand beside his brother.
Noah’s eyes filled with tears. “But you can’t go away. You kissed my mom.”
“And you still have to ask her to marry you.” Doing his best to remain stoic, Alex too, battled the tears. “Remember?”
Brynn and MaryPat looked at each other with wide-eyed expressions and Annie’s hands flew to her face.
Another horrible, awkward moment of silence passed. Then the boys began to cry.
“I should probably get going.” Brynn reached for her purse and MaryPat, clearly sensing the tension, followed suit.
“Yes, me too. I’m going to have dinner at the café and then take Em home with me. Care to join me, Brynn?”
“Love to.”
Within the moments it took to share a flurry of kisses and knowing looks, they were gone, leaving Wyatt and Annie to deal with the boys’ disappointment.
“You don’t have to go, do ya?”
“Tell ’em you don’t want to. Tell ’em you want to stay here. With us.”
Wyatt hunkered down, in order to be at eye-level with the boys. “That does sound really tempting, partner, but she’s kinda countin’ on me.”
“But so are we.” They moved into the circle of his embrace and, draping their skinny little arms over his shoulders, leaned against his sides.
Wyatt shot Annie a helpless glance which she answered in kind. The look of pure sorrow on their innocent faces tugged at his heartstrings and brought back all kinds of memories of abandonment. By the death grips they had on his shirt, Wyatt could feel the strong attachment they’d formed for him. Though he was not their father, somehow—in the accelerated five-year-old time and space continuum—he’d become a surrogate of sorts. A kind of uncle-daddy-buddy guy. And, as such, he knew he couldn’t simply waltz off to Liza’s wedding without somehow making the boys feel a little better.
But how?
He racked his brain for answers, but none were forthcoming. “I’m going to come back, just as soon as the wedding is over. I’ll only be gone for the weekend. I’ll be back Sunday afternoon and we can play and I can read you bedtime stories.”
By the expressions on their faces, Wyatt could see that this wasn’t cutting it.
“Why don’t we come with you?” Noah suggested.
“Yeah. That way you won’t have time to miss us.”
Mind churning with the possibilities, Wyatt looked back and forth between the two boys. “You know,” he mused aloud, “that’s not a half-bad idea.”
“Oh, no. I don’t think—” Hands up, Annie took a step back and shook her head.
“But why not? There’s plenty of room at the house and Liza would be thrilled. Trust me on this, if I show up with a date, everyone will be thrilled.”
“Who said anything about a date?” The tiniest trace of a smile crinkled at the corners of her eyes.
Sensing that there might be a chance, Wyatt pressed on. “Come on, Mom,” he cajoled, looking up at her with the same puppy-dog expression the boys wore, “give a guy a break. I don’t want to be the only goofball there without a date.”
Alex sniffed.
Noah rubbed his eyes and a tentative smile flirted with his lips.
“He doesn’t want to be a goofball, Mom.”
“Yeah, Mom. Without you, he’ll seem stupid.”
Alex knew he wasn’t supposed to say the word stupid, but obviously felt this situation called for strong language.
Not to be outdone, Noah tossed out another forbidden term. “He’d be an idiot, Mom.”
“Boys…” She raised a censorious brow.
Wyatt patted his chest. “My treat.”
“It’s not the money, Wyatt.”
“Then what?”
“I just don’t know about…”
“About what?”
“You know. Meredith.”
“Who’s Meredith?”
“Meredith is my mom,” Wyatt explained to Noah and then glanced back at Annie. “Well, considering her henchman is here in Keyhole, we’d probably be safer in Prosperino. Besides, there will be a ton of kids there. And a ton of security.”
“What about Emily?”
“Your mom and sister and Roy and Geraldine and Helen and Toby and the entire Keyhole police force will all be looking out for her.”
“But what about the store?”
“Ask Brynn or MaryPat to sub for you on Saturday. If they can’t, close it.”
“But what about Chopper?”
At the sound of his name, Chopper’s tail thumped on the floor.
“He stays here. In a kennel. Also, my treat.”
“But—”
“C’mon, Annie, quit grasping for excuses. When was the last time you got out of town and had some fun? When was the last time you took the boys anywhere?” He could sense that she was weakening. “You know it’s already warm there. Last weekend the temperature hit the high seventies. We could take the boys to see the ocean.”
“The ocean?” Noah bobbed excitedly.
“We never been to the ocean,” Alex told him.
Wyatt thrust out his lower lip. “Annie, they’ve never been to the ocean.”
“Yeah, Mom.”
She sighed, opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. “Everyone would be really happy to see you again.” Wyatt played his trump card. “And it would really mean a lot to me and the boys if you would say yes.”
The boys turned in his arms and the three of them looked up at her with pleading eyes.
Ten
“Oh, all right.” Annie moved to her desk and dropped into her seat. “I know when I’ve been outvoted.”
The boys gaped at her for a moment before the facts registered.
“We get to go?”
Annie nodded.
The celebration was deafening. The boys jumped and shouted and hugged Wyatt, and then their mom, and then each other.
“I’m gonna go pack!” Alex ran to the play area and began to gather an armload of toys. Noah joined him and soon they had enough stuff to fill all of the luggage their mother owned.
Annie couldn’t help but smile. Wyatt was right. She hadn’t taken time to go on a vacation in far too long. In fact, the only place she’d ever taken them was on a car trip to visit Judith and her family in Iowa for Christmas when they were three. She doubted they even remembered.
A tiny thrill began to burn in her belly and spread up her spine, sending gooseflesh in all directions. She was going back to Prosperino with Wyatt. She hadn’t been there since before her father died. The idea of walking barefoot along the surf with Wyatt and watching her children frolic in the waves of the Pacific Ocean was a dream come true. A dream that she hadn’t dared, until this very minute, to admit that she’d even harbored.
The boys’ wild excitement was contagious.
Annie looked up into Wyatt’s broad smile and began to tingle with excitement all over again. “How are we going to get plane tickets at this late date?”
“I’ll call my travel agent in the morning. If you can’t get on my flight, we’ll take another route or something. Don’t worry, it’ll all work out.” He took her hand and drew her to stand against his body, then locked her there with his arms. “Before we can go there’s something you have to do for me.”
“What?”
“I need you to add five hundred dollars to my earnings today.”
Annie reared back and stared up at him. “Five hundred dollars? Why?”
“Because I’m buying the painting you did of that basket of grapes.” He gestured to a lovely sepia tone and dark eggplant-colored painting Annie had done years ago, to remind her of her life in Prosperino. And of Wyatt.
“You’re buying that picture? Why?”
“Liza and Nick need something very special to commemorate the beginning of their marriage and this painting is just the thing. It’s part Prosperino and part Wyoming, and part you.”
Annie could see the tears rise in her eyes, sparkling, refracting light. Feeling foolish, she blinked them away. Wyatt never ceased to amaze her with his thoughtful ways. Arms circled securely around his waist, she stood on tiptoe and he lowered his mouth to hers in a tender, gentle kiss that had her suddenly weak in the knees.
Then and there, she made up her mind to worry about the future later. For now, she—like her excitedly thrashing sons were doing at the moment—was going to enjoy whatever came her way and deal with separation anxiety when it eventually happened.
And it would happen.
She could see no happy way around that.
Bracelets jangling, Patsy tippity-tapped away on her laptop computer. Her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth as she pursed her ruby lips in concentration. Occasionally she stopped to sip on her latte and listen to the hum of activity beyond her bedroom door.
Dullsville, baby. Yet another wretchedly tedious pre-wedding party to endure. All those trying conversations with the banal Colton family. All those phony sentiments, all those tiring smiles. She got exhausted just thinking about it. Didn’t these people have anything better to do with their time than gush on about forever and happy-ever-after, and loving, honoring, obeying, worshiping each other? It was sickening.
Downstairs, in the elegant courtyard, the preparations were in full swing for Saturday’s wedding. Florists bustled about, delicious smells wafted from the kitchen, and trucks arrived by the dozens with tables and chairs and linens and large white lawn tents.
Knowing that she was neither wanted nor needed, which was more than fine with her, Patsy decided the time was right to do a little office work. To get the proverbial ball rolling on Jackson’s murder rap. Ahh. The thought of Jackson laboring over license plates in the state pen spurred her to heretofore unrealized cerebral heights and as she typed, she was summarily impressed with her own brilliance.
Dear Detective Law:
I am a concerned citizen wanting to make you aware of a situation I have inadvertently discovered just recently. In regards to the attempts on Joe Colton’s life, please check Grimble’s Insurance Company of L.A. policy 1762529 and lawsuit titled: Amalgamated Industries vs. Jones.
For reasons of my own safety, you’ll understand why I wish to remain,
Anonymous
Patsy reread her missive several times before deciding it was deliciously perfect. After the cops checked out this lead, they’d have to turn a suspicious eye to Jackson. Poor baby. Never should have messed with Auntie Meredith. She tapped the print button on her computer, and as she sat back to wait, the cell phone rang.
She snatched it up and jerked an earring off her ear. “What now?”
It was clear from the background noises that Snake Eyes had been biding his time in a bar.
“I’m just callin’ to tell ya that I didn’t do it yet. She got more people watchin’ her than a circus act. She moved in with some ugly old goat, and the cops are crawlin’ around there like termites, I tell ya.”
Patsy rolled her eyes. “Silas, Silas, Silas.” She took pleasure in using the name she knew he hated. Leaning back in her chair, she studied her flawless manicure and toyed with him. “You were supposed to have been done with this job by now. Isn’t that what we agreed upon when I sent you more money?”
Snake Eyes was silent for so long, Patsy feared he may have dropped off to sleep.
“Silas!” she shouted.
“Yes,” he growled back.
“Okay then. When do you plan on doing your job?”
“Her brother’s been stickin’ to her like glue.”
“Her brother?” Patsy froze. She’d thought everyone was here for the wedding. What brother? She racked her brain. There were a jillion damned Colton foster kids running around the countryside and they were multiplying like rabbits.
“What’s his name?”
“Wally or Whippet, or something.”
“Wyatt?” She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. That’s right. Wyatt had left a few days ago on some kind of a secretive business trip. Now, she knew the “business” had been in Keyhole, with Emily. Her heart stopped beating for an alarming moment.
Could this mean that Wyatt was onto her?
Her mind raced. How would he have known that Emily was holed up in Keyhole? Unless… Her blood ran cold. Had someone overheard one of her phone conversations with Snake Eyes? Had Emily kept in contact with the family, unbeknownst to her? Had she, Patsy, somehow messed up and left a clue behind?
Tiny beads of sweat formed on her upper lip and she felt simultaneously hot and cold and quite suddenly nauseated. How many people suspected that she might be behind Emily’s murder attempt? Or Joe’s, for that matter?
Patsy fumbled for her cigarettes and, after breaking a record number of matches, finally got one lit and took a deep calming drag. She had to stay cool.
She’d always been the cool one. She could be cool now.
Cool, cool, cool.
She carried the phone with her over to her private liquor stash. Using silver tongs, she loaded a crystal tumbler with ice and splashed in a generous amount of vodka. She held the glass first to her molten cheeks, then, to her lips. The fiery liquid burned a wicked trail down her throat and set her empty stomach aflame. As she listened to Snake Eyes blather on incoherently, her brain began to fuzz, and some of her jangled nerves began to gel once again.
She cradled the rim of her glass against her lower lip.
No, no, no.
She was fine. Once she set the wheels in motion, nobody would be able to pin this whole mess on her. But she’d have to hurry. She’d mail the message she’d just typed to Thad-odious Law this very afternoon. That, coupled with the other plans she had for Jackson… Well, it wouldn’t matter that Silas A. Pike was a blithering idiot. She would be in the clear, and Emily would be dead. Maybe Joe, too.
The burning sensation in her stomach settled down to a teensy pile of glowing embers. Umm, yeah. She’d be okay. If she just kept her wits about her. She was always okay, as long as she stayed steely calm.
She tapped her ash into a heavy crystal ashtray. “So Wyatt has been visiting with our Emily.”
“Yeah. Anyway, he’s leavin’ for some weddin’ tomorrow and he’s taking his friends with him, so I’ll take care of business then.”
“Wyatt is coming back here to Prosperino, and bringing friends?”
“Uh-g huh.” He snorted and spat. “Should be there by now. And the brat will be stayin’ behind with that old broad, but that should be no problem-o. If the old lady gets in the way, I’ll just get ridda her, too.”
“Ah, lucky me. A two-for-one sale. Listen, you dolt, just do the job we agreed upon. I don’t pay by the pound!” Molars grinding, Patsy plunged a hand through her hair. “At this rate, just taking care of the one problem should take the rest of your life.”
“Saturday night. It’ll all be over by tomorrow night.”
“It had better be. If you ever want to see the rest of your paycheck.”
“Hey. Speakin’ of my paycheck—”
“No! Not another cent until the girl is history.” She slapped her phone off and marched back to her computer.
After she slipped on a pair of latex gloves, she folded the letter and stuffed it into an envelope. She used her left hand to scrawl the address to Thad Law’s office. Then she affixed a stamp and slipped the letter into her purse.
Now off to town to post this little gem.
This was the beginning of the arrogant Jackson Colton’s demise. A tiny smile clung to the edges of her mouth.
Only the beginning.
Early that Friday afternoon, Wyatt and Annie and the boys landed in San Francisco. They rented a car and took the scenic route up the coast and over to Prosperino. On the way, of course, they had to stop and buy kites, run on the surf, dig deep, pointless holes in the beach, search for seashells, and eat blackened hot dogs and marshmallows with a healthy dash of sand sprinkled in.
Smelling like campfire smoke and covered from head to toe with sand and ocean water and heaven only knew what, they loaded their impromptu picnic back into the trunk of the car and enjoyed the back roads that wound through the beautiful California wine country to the Hacienda de Alegria.
The day was warm and cloudless and, while the boys slept in the backseat, Annie got a chance to spend uninterrupted time talking with Wyatt.
“I’m nervous.” She smoothed the wisps that escaped from her thickly corded French braid.
“Why?”
“What if it’s supposed to be a private, intimate, family-only gathering?”
“So?”
Annie huffed. “You don’t understand.”
“I do more than you think. But, Annie, if I love you, they’ll love you.”
She stilled at his use of the word love. He couldn’t mean that he loved her, loved her. He probably only loved her euphemistically speaking. In the loosest, most old-girlfriend sense of the word. Certainly not the undying variety of love she’d harbored for him all these years.
As if sensing her anxiety, he took her hand in his and pulled her to sit next to him in the seat. Just like the old days.
Slowly, her eyes traveled to his and they held for an intense moment before he had to turn back to the road.
Her heart turned over. He was such a wonderful man. How had she ever had the strength to go on without him and marry Carl? She’d been a different person back then. So young. Headstrong. Like Brynn. Life had been so black and white. Now life wasn’t so simple. There were infinitesimal shades of gray everywhere. In everything. Nothing was clear to her anymore.
Except the unfortunate fact that she still loved Wyatt. Maybe more than ever. He was older, wiser, more mature. A real man. Someone she could count on. The way she used to count on her father.
As the car traversed the miles, her mind traveled back to her own wedding day. When she’d married Carl, she’d been dead inside, with the exception of the place in her heart that still bled for Wyatt. But Carl hadn’t seemed to notice. Since grade school he’d been eager to claim Annie for his own, and their eventual marriage had seemed inevitable to everyone in Keyhole, except Annie.
For Annie, it signified a way to forget about Wyatt.
She figured if she stuffed her feelings way down inside, perhaps she could forget about Wyatt, and maybe, in the process, fall in love with her husband. Unfortunately, Carl’s myriad problems—many of which had not become evident until after the wedding—had made it easy to withdraw even further. So, forcing herself not to feel was the only way she’d been able to survive until the boys’ birth had coaxed her to life once more.
Knowing that she’d been staring at Wyatt’s face for a long while, Annie turned her focus to the road and worried her lower lip with her teeth.
When he went back to his life in Washington, D.C. again, how would she cope with this new emptiness she was sure to feel in her heart? It had been easy to retreat inside herself back when she was responsible for only herself. But now she had two little boys who wouldn’t let her die to the pain. She couldn’t even bear to think about their pain at Wyatt’s departure. Surely their anguish would only compound hers.
Like a divining rod to water, her gaze steered back to Wyatt. She studied the sensitive curve of Wyatt’s mouth, the smile lines at his eyes, the dent that she’d kissed so many times as a girl, the muscle that would sometimes work in his jaw when he was worried. Or feeling possessive.
He was as familiar to her as her own heartbeat. Yet in many ways, he was different altogether than the boy she’d once known.
Instinctively, she knew their breakup had been hard on Wyatt. Workaholism had been his coping skill of choice. By proving to the world that he was somebody, he could forget that he had nobody. Annie shifted her gaze past Wyatt to the seemingly endless Pacific Ocean.
It couldn’t have been easy for him to be the one to make the first move, and re-establish contact after all these years. Then again, for him to admit that he’d been wrong about her need to be there for her father. And yet, he had. And he’d done it with such grace. Such maturity.
She glanced into the backseat at the cherubic faces of her slumbering sons. The fact that he’d been so kind, so loving to her little boys, children she’d borne with another man, was simply additional testament to his character.
And now, he’d put his career on hold in consideration for his sister’s safety…Annie swallowed against the lump that was forming in her throat.
Whether he knew it or not, he’d become a man Joe Colton could be proud to call son.
When they pulled onto the Hacienda de Alegria’s long, tree-lined drive, Annie was again astounded at the massive estate that spoke of a family imbued with such privilege. Such power. It was almost chilling, in a way that she’d been too naive to notice back when she was a girl. Then again, it probably had everything to do with what she knew about Patsy Portman and nothing to do with the imposing structures laid out so grandly before her.
She hadn’t been here since her college days and Annie drank in the awesome sights. Memories of happier times came flooding back. She glanced back at the boys, who were awake now and staring agog, out their windows. She shifted her gaze to Wyatt and they shared a smile.
Rolling hills surrounded the multi-level house—nay, mansion. Stucco and brick pillars flanked the road where the line of trees ended and allowed access to the grand estate through a set of ornate iron gates. Then, drawing closer to the house, a stucco wall, ornamented by a series of massive Mediterranean-style arches gave the whole affair the secluded feel of a fortress in the waning afternoon light. Impenetrable. Strong. Safe.
Annie knew the feeling was only an illusion.
Exactly like the feeling in her own hometown now. For as long as Emily’s attacker was there, Keyhole was no safer than Prosperino.
Beyond the seemingly endless fields, the mountains were a light plum-colored backdrop. Sunlight slanted through the grove of trees that sheltered the house, casting an ethereal golden glow over the terra cotta roof. Overhead, the sky’s cloudless blue was deepening, preparing to showcase the stars that would be visible all too soon.
Annie couldn’t imagine a finer place in all of God’s heaven, it was so magical. Just like something out of a Maxfield Parrish painting.
As Wyatt had predicted, they were met at the Prosperino ranch with open arms by Rand and Lucy and assorted other Colton family members, foster and otherwise. Within minutes, Liza heard the commotion and rushed from her last-minute meeting with the wedding planner to hug Wyatt and greet the infamous Annie. Ever since they’d heard that Wyatt was bringing an old flame, the family—chiefly Lucy—had been abuzz with speculation.
When they’d all been roundly kissed and hugged, Liza grasped Annie’s hand in her own. “Annie, though I never got to meet you while you and Wyatt were in college, I have heard so much about you over the years. I’m honored that you would come to my wedding.”
“The honor is all mine,” Annie murmured.
To the boys, Liza said, “Hey, guys, did you pack your swimsuits?”
Shy, they could only nod, but their expressions held vast interest.
“Great. Your bags are being delivered to your suite now, right next to Wyatt’s. He and I will show you the way. If your mom says it’s okay, you can go put your suits on and swim in the pool out back.”
Annie smiled. “It sounds wonderful.”
Together, they all moved through the grand foyer and toward the large courtyard garden that sat in the very center of the house. The sky itself acted as the ceiling allowing sunlight to stream in and plants to flourish. A stunning fountain burbled at one end of the yard, and before it, a smallish, gazebo-like tent, draped with yards of mosquito netting had been erected and under that, an altar.
“This is where Nick and I will say our vows tomorrow afternoon,” Liza explained as they all stopped and gazed and the lush atrium-style courtyard. “It’s going to be a small wedding, friends and family only for the ceremony.”
Annie sent Wyatt a narrow gaze.
He winked and rubbed the small of her back, and suddenly, Annie felt included. Especially since Liza was smiling so happily, lost in her little dream world, moving through the garden, envisioning her wedding.
“After the ceremony, the reception will include about two to three hundred more guests, and be held in the great hall that faces the south hillside garden and lake. We are going to open up that wall of glass doors that lead to the patio, to sort of bring the outside in. If you get a chance later on, you should go see it. The designers have outdone themselves.”
She continued to chatter, as she led them out of the courtyard and off toward Wyatt’s suite.
“I just hope the weather is gorgeous, just like this, tomorrow,” Liza mused. “Although, we do have a ton of tents set up. There will be a sit-down dinner and after that, dancing until the wee hours, and of course, Uncle Joe is cracking open some of his private reserve, so the toasting should go on forever.” She laughed. “Oh, I’m so excited. I’ve looked forward to this moment for so long, I can’t even begin to tell you.”
Wyatt glanced at Annie and in that instant, she knew he was thinking about their own missed opportunity. And her wedding to Carl. And the improbable chance that they might have their own wedding in the future, and all nature of wonderings. She knew, because she was having the exact same thoughts.
They wended their way through the opulent interior of the house, and off toward the wing where they’d be staying. Once again, Annie was reminded of the few times she’d come here to visit, back when she was a student. Wyatt’s girl.
As they passed Joe’s masculine study, Annie peeked in, remembering the rich smell of freshly polished wood and cigar smoke, and the hours spent there, studying with Wyatt. Studying Wyatt. A tiny smile twitched. She was looking forward to seeing Joe once again.
Meredith, however, was a different story.
Her gaze shifted to her sons. What with the beefed-up security, Annie knew that they were probably safer here in Prosperino than in Keyhole with the actual attacker. Even so, this Meredith person was disturbed. Hopefully, she’d spend most of her time out of the way and off doing her own thing, as she was now.
Annie nudged Wyatt, and being that he’d always been able to read her mind, he glanced around and asked, “Liza, where is Meredith?”
“She was holed up in her room all morning, and then she went for a drive this afternoon. Haven’t really seen her all day. But I know Joe is eager to see you both. He’s in the wine cellar and should be back any minute.”
It was obvious that Liza was acting as hostess for her uncle in her aunt’s absence. Liza’s warm expression included Annie and made her feel welcome and at home. And for that, Annie was grateful.
“Now, are you hungry?”
Wyatt scratched his stomach and answered for them all. “Yes. We had a picnic on the beach, but that was hours ago.”
“Well, good. I’ll have something light sent to your rooms and then we’re having a giant family dinner at eight, right after the wedding rehearsal. A last supper, so to speak.” Liza laughed and took Wyatt by the arm. As they led Annie and the boys to their room, the bride murmured to her cousin in that intimate way that spoke of a long history together. “I’m so glad that you made it back in time for my wedding, cousin.”
“I told you I would.”
“True, but you’ve been known to let work interfere with your plans before.”
“Those days are over.”
“Really?” Liza peeked over her shoulder. “She must be good for you.”
“She is.”
“Good. She’s really lovely, Wyatt.”
“I think so too.”
“So, do I hear wedding bells?”
“Yes, you do, but I’m afraid they’re yours.”
Much later that evening, while the children frolicked outdoors, the adults rehearsed Nick and Liza’s ceremony with the wedding planner and the minister in the large garden courtyard. There was much laughing and teasing; Joe caught the bouquet and ran, Wyatt picked up Liza and ran, Lucy and Rand grabbed each other at the altar and smooched noisily every chance they got and more than once had to be dragged away and reprimanded.
No one missed Meredith.
After Noah and Alex had worn themselves to a fare-thee-well in the pool and then attended a pizza and movie party with the other Colton-and-friends small fries in the home theatre, Annie put them to bed and joined the rest of the family for the dinner that followed the rehearsal.
Joe was in fine fettle, cracking jokes and making toasts. As she had remembered, he was still every bit as sweet and gentlemanly as he’d been when they first met. He treated her like a long-lost daughter and ribbed Wyatt about locking her up and not letting her go this time.
Wyatt had taken the teasing good-naturedly, but there was nothing offhand about the possessive look in his eyes that had the family whispering and smiling.
During dinner, Meredith put in a brief appearance and, when she had endured as much of the festivities as she could, she excused herself and turned in early. The party went on without her, much the way it usually did. The only person who appeared even remotely troubled by her absence was Joe.
Seeming to notice Joe’s sudden melancholy at Meredith’s departure, Jackson sprang to his feet and offered yet another ridiculous toast designed to distract.
“Here’s to Uncle Joe, foster son, foster brother, foster father, second foster cousin twice removed from Foster Grant!”
Joe grinned and slowly tore his eyes away from the door Meredith had just exited.
Annie couldn’t help but feel sorry for Joe. No doubt he was reflecting on his own wedding. On the love he’d lost.
On his vows to stay with Meredith, until death parted them.
Annie shook off the eerie thought. There were plenty of guards on duty. Surely Nick and Liza’s wedding would go off without a hitch. Certainly, with all these people around, not to mention the raft of security guards, no one in the Colton family had anything to fear from Meredith.
“May he continue to live long and prosper,” Jackson went on. “May we all.”
After dinner, Wyatt took Annie for a moonlight walk around the ranch. Hand in hand, they wandered around the property and looked back at the house, lit up and sparkling, a gem at the top of the hill. From where they stood, they could hear voices and laughter mingled with live music.
Liza had hired a small jazz ensemble to perform on the back patio and many of the family’s couples had drifted outside to dance under the stars. Wyatt took Annie in his arms and they danced, cheek to cheek.
“Remember when we used to slow dance in the dormitory’s cafeteria on Friday nights? Everybody from our five dorms would push back all the tables and turn out the lights and we’d play records till some house mother or somebody would chase us out. Remember that?”
“Um-hmm.” A husky laugh burbled from deep in Annie’s throat. “I remember the first time you ever asked me to dance.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’d just been asked to dance by the cutest ROTC boy with a buzz cut.”
Wyatt snorted.
Annie ignored him. “I said yes, so he turned to lead me to the middle of the dance floor. But before I could get all the way out there with him, you saw me and grabbed me and pulled me off to the middle of the dance floor without even asking. I barely knew you, and—” her laughter rose and Wyatt found himself chuckling “—it took the poor ROTC guy several minutes to realize that he was dancing with both of us.”
“So? He didn’t have anything to complain about. As I recall, I was a pretty good dancer.”
“Then why did I have to carry a box of Band-Aids in my purse every time we went dancing?”
“Blisters from trying to keep up with old Mr. Footloose?”
“No. Mashed toes.”
Wyatt chuckled. “Am I mashing your toes now?”
“You seem to have outgrown that habit.”
“Ah. Good.” He nuzzled her neck. “Having fun?” He hoped that he hadn’t commandeered her all the way to California only to realize that she was having a terrible time.
“Mmm. Heavenly,” she murmured into his shoulder. “Your family is just as lovely as I remembered. Liza and Nick’s wedding is going to be so beautiful. I got all choked up at rehearsal tonight when they were saying their vows, and he was looking down into her face and promising to love her until death parted them. It was…very touching.”
He hated himself for asking, but he’d been so good for so long and he was dying of curiosity.
“This remind you of your own wedding?”
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
“I don’t have particularly fond memories of my wedding.”
“Oh.”
They were silent for a very long time and Wyatt feared that he’d overstepped his bounds. Brought up a painful memory and she probably thought he was prying, which he was, but still…
“Why were the memories of your own wedding so unhappy?”
Annie didn’t respond.
Wyatt waited, wondering if he should backpedal. Apologize for asking such an insensitive question. But something made him hold his tongue. He wanted and needed to know.
Annie took a long, deep breath, then seemed to resign herself to the fact that it was time she finally opened up about her life with Carl.
“Well, for one thing,” she murmured and stopped moving to the beat of the music and looked down at the ground. Her voice grew soft. “I was not in love with my husband.”
Eleven
Annie knew that once she’d confessed this much, Wyatt wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d heard the whole story. Unable to meet his piercing gaze, she turned and began to meander toward the house. She knew that Wyatt was staying just a step behind her, giving her the space she needed to formulate what she wanted to say. Trouble was, she’d never let herself dwell on the subject, so the words came hard. She snapped a dead twig off a tree and rolled it between her fingertips as she strolled along.
“Do you ever remember me talking about how I grew up with Carl, back when you and I were in college together?”
“Your late husband, Carl?”
“Mmm.”
“Uh…kind of. I guess.”
“I didn’t talk about him all that much. I had my reasons for not dwelling on him.”
“Hey, now, wait a minute. Come to think of it, I vaguely remember you telling me about how some kid named Carl gave you your first kiss. I remember that now, because I remember I hated him.”
Annie tilted back her head and let the laughter flow. “I only told you about him because you were bragging about what an experienced kisser you were and I was feeling a little abashed.”
“I was no doubt lying. Guys do that stuff, you know.”
“Now you tell me. Anyway, yes, he was my first kiss. Sort of. We were in the fourth grade and Carl had been chasing me around the playground all during recess, just as he had for grades one through three, and finally, I just ran out of steam. I let him catch me.”
She stopped walking for a moment and gazed up at the fantastic Hacienda de Alegria and marveled at the romantic picture it made against the night sky. To the west, there was a great wash of inky blackness. Void of all light, Annie knew it was the Pacific Ocean, and she could feel the marine breezes as they lifted the hair off her neck, smell the salt in the air and hear the eternal roar of the sea.
Wyatt stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, chin rested lightly on her head. “What’d he do?”
Annie grinned. “I think he went into shock. After years of chasing me, to finally have me in his clutches was so exhilarating. Everybody in Miss Dalberg’s fourth-grade class was watching. He knew he had to do something big. A grand gesture, so to speak. So he kissed me on the lips real hard—in fact I thought for a minute he broke my tooth—and announced that someday he was gonna marry me, whether I liked it or not.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “And he did.”
“I’m sure there was more to it than that.”
She lifted and dropped an arm. “Not really. From that day forward, everyone just assumed that I was Carl’s girl.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know. But you were different.”
“I wasn’t from Keyhole.”
“And I liked that about you.” She smiled and continued to try to paint a verbal picture of the boys’ father for Wyatt. “Carl was…he was single-minded, I guess you could say. Proprietary. Not to mention huge, and a bit of a bully.” She held up a finger and tilted her head. “Albeit a likeable bully.”
“The best kind.”
“I didn’t have a chance with any of the other boys in Keyhole. They were all scared of Carl when it came to me. And, considering the rather awkward, skinny, shy and geeky-haired stages I passed through as a kid, I guess I was glad for the male attention. Because of Carl, I always had a date to the prom, so to speak.”
“How did you ever get away from him long enough to end up at Prosperino State?”
“In my senior year of high school, I told him I was going, and that was that. I think he was in such shock at my sudden display of backbone that he didn’t know what to say. But I knew deep in my heart that I had to get away from Keyhole, where I was Carl’s girl, and figure out who I really was.”
“And sunny California seemed a long way from Carl’s influence.”
Annie snapped the twig she carried in two and tossed half of it away. Slowly, she turned toward Wyatt and searched his face with her eyes. It was evident that he understood. She only wished that she’d discussed her marriage with him earlier.
“Exactly right. Ever since the fourth grade when I made the mistake of letting him catch me, he’d had a hold on me.” She took a deep breath, then let it hiss. “Anyway, even though I told everyone I was going away to college, nobody, especially Carl, took me seriously. People in Carl’s and my families didn’t go to college. They thought it was just a phase with me. A passing fancy. Everybody just figured I’d outgrow the idea and realize that my proper place was with Carl. He’d run his daddy’s auto parts store and I’d have the babies. But when I got a job at my father’s store and started a college fund it raised a few eyebrows. Even so, Carl just figured I’d use the money for our future together.”
“That was big of him.”
“That’s who he was. He always just took it for granted that the shy, awkward, redheaded girl would be overjoyed to be his woman. I wasn’t so much an individual as a trophy. Or a status symbol or something. You know, I don’t think we ever discussed love back in high school. But, because of my own mom and dad, I knew there had to be more to love than just…I don’t know…being there.”
“And there was.” Wyatt pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple.
“Umm.” She nodded and slipped her arms around his waist, loving his gentle touch. “So much more.”
“I have a hard time believing you were ever shy.”
“I was until I met you. Something about you just made me…I don’t know…”
“Mad,” Wyatt supplied.
“Yeah.” Annie giggled. “With you, I forgot to be shy.”
“I’m glad.” He turned her around, draped an arm over her shoulder and began to steer her back toward the house. “C’mon. We can finish this discussion in the house. It’s getting a little chilly out here. You have goose bumps.”
Annie leaned against him as they walked. “You’ve always given me goose bumps.”
“I’m not sure how to take that.”
“It’s a good thing.”
Arm in arm they strolled slowly around to the more secluded front of the house. Light strains of a party still in progress reached them from out back, but here, it was quiet. Just the two of them. They moved through the shadows of the portico and up to the massive front doors that swung silently open, at the lightest touch, into the house. Wall sconces glowed in the foyer and, just beyond, the courtyard, where Nick and Liza would take their vows in a matter of hours, was a fairyland.
Votive candles from the wedding rehearsal still burned in small crystal glasses that lit the pathway to the altar. From above and below, indirect lighting illuminated the gauzy tent and garden’s lush plant life. Behind them, the fountain bubbled quietly. It was incredibly beautiful. Annie only wished her own wedding had been half so nice.
Still holding hands, she and Wyatt were drawn slowly, quietly down the flickering path and up to the altar.
“It’s so magical here.” Annie kept her voice low, so she wouldn’t somehow ruin the holy feel of this place.
“The perfect place for a wedding.” Wyatt nodded in agreement and turned to face her.
Annie could fairly hear the wedding march echoing throughout the courtyard. Wyatt would look fantastic in a tuxedo, she was sure. And she’d always wanted a real wedding dress. Florist flowers. A professional photographer.
“I got married in Carl’s parents’ backyard,” Annie murmured, fingering the ribbons of the altar’s fabulous bouquet. “It was a casual affair with one of Judith’s cast-off, ivory prom dresses and Mama’s garden flowers. Daddy’s brother, Uncle George, took pictures with his Instamatic. Afterward, we threw a barbecue for all of our friends and family and Carl’s hunting and fishing buddies. His idea.”
“I take it this was not your idea of a wedding reception.” Wyatt’s tone was dry.
“Hardly. But I really didn’t care.” She shrugged. “I didn’t care about anything.”
“Then why did you marry him?”
“I thought I could learn to love him. We’d been together since we were babies in preschool.” Annie’s gaze traveled to the candles that still flickered on the table in front of the altar. “Daddy really wanted to know that I’d be taken care of after he was gone, and he knew his time was short. He knew Judith was married and Brynn was a go-getter who could take care of herself, but for some reason, he worried about me. I was always sort of his favorite.”
“I can see why,” Wyatt whispered.
Annie grabbed his hands and lightly, playfully, rocked him back and forth. “You’re prejudiced.”
“No. I just have good taste in women.”
She snuggled closer, entwining their arms between them, still remembering. “Daddy thought it was a good idea that I marry Carl, because Carl was basically a good kid. Carl thought it was a good idea that I marry Carl.” Her laughter held a brittle edge. “Everyone thought it was a good idea that I marry Carl.” She tried to swallow. “Except me.”
“Annie.” Wyatt tilted her chin and looked deep into her eyes and whispered. “Why on earth did you go through with it?”
“Tons of reasons.” Tears pooled at her lower lashes. She blinked and one, and then another, began to roll down her cheeks. “I married him because I felt sorry for myself. For him. For you. I married him because I knew I had to let go of you once and for all. I had to sever that connection so that you could realize your dreams. A wife—and maybe kids—would only hold you back, and I knew how important proving yourself to the world was to you.”
When Wyatt started to protest, she held a finger to his lips. “That was only part of it. I married him because I had to stay near my family. They needed me. I saw no other way out.”
“So you married a man you didn’t love.”
“I never said it was smart.”
Wyatt was silent for what seemed to Annie like an eternity. She could see his mind working, backtracking, trying to figure out exactly where they’d gone wrong. The look in his eyes was tortured, as if he were battling age-old demons.
“I’m so sorry, Wyatt,” she whispered, feeling the need to apologize for her own part in their breakup. “My unhappy marriage wasn’t your fault. I made my own decisions. And something wonderful came of it in spite of everything. You got your career—”
Wyatt winced.
Reaching up, she smoothed the furrow between his brows with her fingertips and bestowed him with a watery smile. “—and I got two beautiful little boys.”
“And the tough role of a single parent with a full-time job.”
“That’s life, Wyatt. That could have happened to you and me.”
Slowly, Wyatt cupped her face in his hands and traced the tear streaks on her cheeks with his thumbs. “Rand told me that Carl had died, but not until months after it happened. He’d heard it from someone in the McGrath family, who heard it from someone else. No one knew any details, so I was afraid to call.”
“It’s all right. I understand.” Annie closed her eyes. “It was a boating accident, right after the boys were born. He and two fishing buddies drowned in Willanoon Lake, about fifty miles south of Keyhole. They’d all been drinking and horsing around and they collided at top speed with a floating dock. Carl drank a lot. Especially after we had the kids. I think he was afraid of the responsibility of twins.”
A telltale muscle jumped in Wyatt’s jaw. “My old man used to drink and then take his troubles out on my mom.”
Annie blinked and covering his hands with hers, pressed his palms to her cheeks. She knew that his statement contained a question and she didn’t know what to say. It didn’t seem fair, discussing Carl’s foibles when he wasn’t here to defend himself.
“He…never hit me. He just didn’t have the first idea of how to be a loving husband or parent. He never really had any kind of example growing up. His father was a real—” She waved her hand. “He was hard on Carl and Carl’s mother. Expected a lot. Used to smack them around. I think that a lot of my feeling for Carl was wrapped up in pity. And wanting to please my own dying father.”
“Ah.” Wyatt sighed. “You ever notice how the whole father thing can really screw you up?”
Annie emitted a strangled sort of combination sob and laugh. She nodded. “It seems to be a trend for you and me. And Carl.”
“And Noah and Alex, and Joe.”
“And Meredith.”
“And Meredith,” he whispered. He dragged a hand over his mouth and jaw. “Man, I hope when the time comes for me to parent that I don’t make the same mist—”
Annie interrupted by pressing a finger to his lips. “No. No. You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I know because I’ve seen the way you are with my boys. They don’t remember Carl or my dad. You are the closest thing to a father they’ve ever had. And in the short time you’ve spent with them, I’ve seen positive changes. I know you’re going to make a wonderful father someday. Already my kids love you to pieces.”
“I love them too,” Wyatt whispered, and pulled her hands up to rest against his steadily beating heart. He looked deep into her eyes. “And you. I never stopped loving you, Annie. I know I never will,” he vowed.
As she looked into his eyes, Annie felt just as though she were standing at the altar in her own wedding to Wyatt. Heaven help her, she loved the feeling, even though she knew that it was an impossible dream, considering their vastly different lifestyles. She could feel her mouth quivering as she bit back the never-ending flood of tears and heartbreak that had been threatening again since she’d said goodbye to Wyatt seven years ago. Long-distance relationships never worked. She and Wyatt had proved that true once already.
Even so, it was lovely to dream. If only for a moment.
“Oh, Wyatt. I love you, too. I never stopped.” Her heart was thundering. What on earth was she doing, flirting with disaster this way? Reaching up, she traced his lips with her fingertips and said with a sigh, “Suddenly, I can’t breathe.”
Wyatt dipped his head and kissed her so tenderly, she knew that he’d forgiven her all of her stupid mistakes. And she had forgiven his. In that regard alone, Wyatt’s trip to visit her had been a wild success.
The next morning, thousands of miles away in a small Mississippi town, Louise Smith awoke from a deep sleep, and for the first time in ten years felt supremely happy. Like a purring tabby, she stretched in her bed, yawning, enjoying the patch of sunlight that streamed through her window and heated her back. Eyes closed, she strained to grasp the fleeting remnants of a truly lovely dream.
What was it, she mused as images flitted through her head. Mmm. Yes. There was a garden. But this was not just any garden. This was a special garden. One she’d dreamed of before. One she’d had a hand in creating, she was sure, as the flowers and plants all pleased her sense of color and fragrance. And there was the sound of water. Bubbling water.
She placed a hand on her furrowed brow and forced herself to remember. Why was this place so familiar? She knew this was a recurring dream, but that couldn’t be all there was to it. She’d actually been there, she felt quite certain.
“…anyone fitting this description, please notify the authorities immediately. And now for the top-of-the-hour traffic and weather scene here’s mean Jean Greene. Hey thanks, Bob, and a good morning it is, too. Right now it’s a balmy seventy degrees outside and climbing. We’ve got a warm front moving…
The rude blaring of her alarm clock’s radio distracted her for a moment until she could disentangle herself from her covers and slap the snooze button. Once she’d accomplished that, blessed silence reigned once more. Now, where was she? Oh, yes.
The garden.
She settled back into her pillow and upon closing her eyes, the garden came alive in her mind’s eye once more. The tall, dark man was there again. That, she remembered. She always remembered the tall, dark man, because he gave her such a feeling of peace. Security. Happiness. Could this man represent her father? No…but whom?
Every time she had this dream, a powerful sense of relief filled her, as if she’d been traveling for a long time and had finally arrived at her destination.
Outside her window, the trash men were kicking up a ruckus and she put her fingers in her ears and swallowed a shriek of impatience. Auugh! Why couldn’t she get a handle on this elusive dream? Surely it was a key piece to the puzzle of her true identity.
Just as she was about to give up, toss back the covers and head for the shower, the fleeting image of the tall, dark man standing beside her in the garden materialized. She pressed her palms into her eyes and she could see him holding her hand. Yes, that was it! He was holding her hand and slipping a ring on her finger!
A ring?
She could recall the feeling of pure joy and utter contentment as she looked down at the two hands, hers and whose? Her husband? What else could it be? She strained to remember but, like an out-of-focus picture, she couldn’t spot the details.
However, the feelings were suddenly acute. Nearly palpable.
Love. Deep, abiding love. She could feel it even now. This blurred man was her other half, her partner, the part that was missing from her heart. She yearned for him with a longing so strong her body physically ached.
Drawing her legs up under her chin, she lay curled into a fetal ball, fighting to remember.
Remember. Remember! Remember, damn it!
The last vestiges of the dream began to dissolve. Like a bad television signal, everything was breaking up. But before the image faded completely to black, she could tell that they were not alone in the garden. There were people gathered around her and the tall, dark man. Many people, enfolding them in warmth. In happiness. In love.
As Liza had hoped, the day of her wedding arrived in the tradition of California’s sunny best. Temperate. Cloudless. The merest hint of an ocean breeze. The Hacienda de Alegria’s lush central courtyard was a peaceful haven, fully decorated and ready for the impending nuptials.
A harpist was seated off to the left of the first row of seats and, as her fingers danced over the strings, Nick and Liza’s family began to filter into the garden. Ushered to their seats by two of Nick’s gangly, red-faced, tuxedo-clad, teen-aged cousins, the crowd grew until there were at least fifty family members and just about that many more friends. The excitement was electric and the audience buzzed quietly among themselves. For a moment, the murmurings stopped as Joe arrived with Meredith on his arm, and then, as they took their seats up front, the murmurings began again in earnest.
Annie felt almost as if she were hovering over this blessed occasion, rather than sitting on the bride’s side, next to Wyatt, near the back. Heart pounding, head buzzing, stomach roiling, she clutched his hand until her knuckles turned white.
Wyatt looked at her with concern but Annie could only manage a weak smile in return. She glanced at her boys and gave silent thanks that, for once, they were exhibiting model behavior. There was absolutely no way she could handle it if they acted up now.
She took a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to somehow orient herself. It was the oddest thing. Almost as if she were having some kind of out-of-body experience. Near as she could figure, the raw terror that had invaded her body arrived last night, when Wyatt confessed his deep and abiding love.
With that pronouncement, he’d brought them to a “Y” in the road. It was him or her family and Keyhole.
Either way, a broken heart of gargantuan proportions was staring her in the face and she simply did not know if she had the strength to navigate another loss. Only in the last couple of years had she begun to live again. The boys were less work, the store was flourishing and she’d moved beyond her grief and into a rather bland, but nonetheless, peaceful existence.
Try as she might to calm herself, the more she thought about her own future, the more panicky she became. It was a horrible feeling and she was utterly helpless to control it.
Peering through her tunnel of fear and depression, she watched as Nick and his best man, Jackson, moved to stand under the gauze wedding tent. Moments passed and then the bridesmaids followed a tiny set of flower girls down the aisle. Behind them, a darling ring bearer, no older than three and clutching a heart-shaped pillow, stumbled up to stand by the girls.
The harpist began the wedding march and a sea of happy faces rose. Annie watched herself being propelled to her feet by some autopilot life force that seemed to be standing in for her at the moment. The only thing holding her upright was her death grip on Wyatt’s steely bicep.
“You okay?” he murmured.
“Mmm.”
“This bring up too many bad memories?”
“It’s not that. I’ll be okay. I just feel a little weird. Jet lag.”
“Oh.” Wyatt was not convinced.
Looking the picture of serenity, Liza floated down the aisle on her father’s arm. Annie envied her this strength. This calm. This certainty of family and destination.
Why couldn’t it be this simple for her and Wyatt? Why did life always have to be so blasted hard? Tears burned at the backs of her eyes and she struggled to fill her lungs with air. Sometimes it felt like all she ever did was fight the good fight.
But damn it all, she was tired of fighting. Tired of healing. Tired of making decisions that were right for everyone but herself.
She rummaged through her purse and withdrew a tissue and joined a number of other people who were dabbing their eyes and discreetly blowing their noses. Fortunately, for different reasons altogether.
Annie shuddered with the heaviness of her sigh. She hadn’t been this miserable since her own wedding.
The ethereal harp music reached a conclusion and Liza, looking for all the world like one of Grimm’s beloved royal heroines, bestowed her father’s ruddy cheek with a light kiss, and then turned to face her prince. Expressions glowing with love for each other, she and Nick moved to stand together before the altar.
Amid rustling and whispering, the audience was once again seated, and Liza and Nick began the journey that would take them through the rest of their lives together.
Annie fished her purse once more for tissues and came up with an empty tissue package, a ticket stub, a grocery receipt and some empty gum wrappers. Great. Running mascara went with her unruly hair, and that panicked deer-in-the-headlights expression she was sure she wore on her face.
Luckily, a woman seated at her side, who’d introduced herself and her husband as Elizabeth and Jason Colton, was on the ball and pressed a handkerchief into her hand. Her nine-month-old son reached for the lacy scrap, but missed and began to fuss. His father took him into his lap and the baby immediately quieted.
“Keep it,” the woman whispered. “I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”
Annie nodded and, feeling utterly foolish but unable to control her emotions, dabbed and sniffed and blew her way through the minister’s opening remarks. Coltons to the left and right of her sent knowing smiles and she returned them to the best of her ability with trembling lips. Luckily, they had no idea that her heart was breaking.
When the time came, Nick winked at the little ring bearer who labored to untie the ribbons that contained Liza’s ring. When he’d accomplished his mission, he stood right there, between the bride and groom, staring straight up, absorbing the solemnity of the moment, as the groom slipped the small circle of gold on the bride’s slender finger.
Neither Nick, nor Liza, seemed to notice the small child hadn’t moved away.
Nick’s mellifluous baritone resonated strength as he began to recite the vows he’d written for Liza.
“I, Nick Hathaway, take you, Liza Colton, to be my partner and wife. I promise before God and these witnesses to be your loving husband and friend. I will comfort you in sickness, rejoice with you in health. I will share in your happiness and success, and uphold you in sorrow.”
Temples throbbing, Annie ducked her head and watched her tears splash off her purse and drip onto her raw silk skirt. Wyatt squeezed her hand, but she was too weak with emotion to return the favor.
“I want,” Nick began, then took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as if he couldn’t quite believe that this moment had finally come. The deep love in his eyes for Liza was evident, even across the room, “I want to provide loving and sensitive leadership in our marriage that will leave a lot of room for individuality. I will help and encourage you in achieving the dreams and goals that God has given you. I pledge myself to you alone as a loyal companion. I will hold you in my heart as long as we both shall live. I love you, Liza.”
Except for the occasional sniffle, for which Annie was mainly responsible, the room was silent. Holy. Filled with joy.
After helping the little ring bearer—who hadn’t strayed from where he stood, directly between them—with Nick’s ring, Liza looked up at her beloved and, in a voice strong and clear and filled with vitality and health, began her own vows.
“I, Liza Colton, do give myself to you, Nick Hathaway, before God and these witnesses, to be your wife and receive you as my husband. I promise you tenderness and love. I want to always treat you with sensitivity and understanding. I desire to always make decisions in your best interests. I promise to always be faithful and loyal, no matter what circumstances we may face.”
Annie bit back a sob.
“I want to dream your dreams, to be your best friend and loyal supporter and companion, to comfort you in sickness, rejoice with you in health. I will share your happiness and uphold you in sorrow. I pledge myself to you alone and trust you and hold you in my heart as long as we both shall live. I love you, Nick.”
The minister nodded, satisfied that the vows were completed, and the rings exchanged. “By the powers vested in me by the great state of California, I now pronounce that you are husband and wife. If you like, sir, you may kiss your bride in celebration.”
As Nick swept her into his arms, the ring bearer disappeared among the folds of Liza’s voluminous satin and lace skirts where he remained, amid much laughter, until the ardent kiss was over.
Twelve
The reception was being held in the great room, which truly lived up to its name in every sense of the word. A high stone hearth formed the room’s central focal point and casual leather couches and mission-style furnishings created a comfortable atmosphere for entertaining. Today, every spare square foot was set with lavish tables, both inside the great room and on the giant patio beyond the dozens of wide, glass doors.
Annie watched her boys join some other children who were darting through the milling throng and normally, she would have cautioned them to be careful, but she simply did not have the energy. The mental fortitude. The will to drag herself through the rest of this extravaganza, let alone scold her rambunctious offspring.
Fantastic floral arrangements, ice sculptures, champagne fountains, along with endless buffet tables loaded with every conceivable delicacy decorated the filled-to-bursting great room and patio. Already several hundred people had arrived after the wedding, and more were expected as the evening progressed.
Nick and Liza had been hugged and kissed within inches of their lives in the receiving line, and were now moving about the dance floor, lost in a haze of their love. Over in one corner an orchestra played lively music from the Big Band era, and already, the party was hopping. Waiters and waitresses worked the crowd, delivering fluted glasses of champagne to the adults and sparkling cider to the children. Gourmet hors d’oeuvres designed to tickle the most distinguishing palate were also making the rounds, while those with a heartier appetite jumped into the buffet line.
Rumor had it that the party would be going on until well past midnight, which was not unusual, given the history of social events at the Hacienda de Alegria.
Annie only hoped she could make it through an hour or so without coming completely unglued. By sheer grit alone was she holding onto her fragile sanity. She knew she had to get away. To be completely alone to think and pray and grope for answers to her future before she would begin to feel even a tiny bit better.
At the moment, however, that was impossible.
People were interested in meeting and carrying on meaningless conversation with Wyatt’s date, and so she had to rally. To rise to the occasion. To discuss the beautiful weather with the best of them.
“Actually, I think the horizontal stripe on the mother of the bride’s dress is quite flattering.”
“Yes, I love living in Wyoming. And yes, we have a car. It’s actually quite modern.”
“No offense taken. I know people are curious about the circumstances of my late husband’s death. But no, he was much closer to my age than that.”
“Why, thank you. But, no. Wyatt is not their father.”
“Hard to tell in this light. You might want to have it appraised. Unless it’s a costume piece, antique stones any larger than a walnut are usually kept in a vault.”
“No, I’m not insinuating that your grandmother’s brooch is fake. Only that you take great care with a jewel of such size.”
“Yes, I’ve seen the way he looks at her.”
“I’m sure they will live happily ever after.”
She wanted to scream.
And, when she caught Wyatt’s eye, she knew he was concerned. He was so sweetly solicitous, and rescued her from more than one endless conversation, but she didn’t want sympathy. She wanted answers, damn it. She wanted to know what the heck she was supposed to do with Wyatt’s undying love when he lived halfway across the stupid country.
She needed an aspirin.
She sighed.
She needed a shrink, but she’d settle for an aspirin. Tapping Wyatt on the arm, Annie politely excused herself and headed for the nearest powder room.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Jackson looked up from the hors d’oeuvre tray to see Meredith sidle up next to him, wearing a phony smile. She was carrying two glasses of champagne, which he figured might account for the flush in her cheeks.
“It’s my sister’s wedding. Of course I’m having a good time.” He eyed her with suspicion. “Why?”
“Just wanted to make sure you were enjoying yourself. That and to take a moment to bury the hatchet between us.”
Between us, Jackson wondered sourly, or in me? “Why?” he asked again.
“Because,” she simpered, pouting, “I hate it when there are hard feelings. We are usually such a close-knit family.”
“Meredith, I hardly know you anymore.”
She lifted a delicate shoulder. “Be that as it may, I still want for us to be bosom friends. The way we used to be. When you were a little boy. Here.” She held out one of the glasses she carried.
Jackson stared at her.
“C’mon,” she cajoled, “take it. Drink with me. To friendship. To family.”
Jackson ground his back teeth and forced himself to mentally count to ten. He could hardly refuse her when they were surrounded by so much happy family. Besides, making a scene on her wedding day would hardly be fair to Liza. Hating himself for giving in to this viper’s wishes, he took the glass from her and waited.
Meredith pouted. “Forgive me?”
“For what?”
“For our little disagreement the other morning. You caught me at a rather bad time, and I’m so sorry. I simply don’t know what has come over me lately. I think I’m just so terrified of hurting Joe.” She pulled a full, rosy lip between her teeth and studied her glass for a moment. “I’d do anything to protect him. That includes making sure that he never finds out that our son is really—” she lifted her lashes and glanced over the rim of her fluted glass until her gaze landed on Graham “—his.”
Jackson snorted. “Blackmail is not the answer.”
“You’re right, of course.” Carefully arranging her face to appear contrite, Meredith nodded. “There’s a better way of handling all this, I’m sure.” She held up her glass. “In any event, I’m sorry. For everything. I made a terrible mistake, and I’ll spend the rest of my life dealing with the consequences. I can only beg your forgiveness.”
Jackson glanced away from Meredith and watched his sister glide around the dance floor on a cloud of love. The last thing he felt like doing was bestowing this witch with his forgiveness. But it was probably the right thing to do. This day, of all days, was a day to unite families. Feeling as if he had no choice, he gave a curt nod.
Meredith held her glass to her lips. “Thank you,” she murmured, then took a sip. “To friendship and new beginnings.”
Jackson brought his own glass to his lips as he continued to watch Liza flirt with Nick. “I’ll drink to new beginnings.”
Annie returned from the rest room to find Wyatt deep in conversation with Lucy and Rand. Deciding not to interrupt, she forced a bright smile to her lips and stood just far enough away to give them privacy, but close enough to still feel as if she were part of the group. She took this quiet opportunity to further attempt to collect her runaway emotions.
It was the wedding.
It had to be.
Weddings always brought out the high emotion in people. Annie was no different. Worse, maybe, considering her own unfortunate foray into matrimony. But still, none of that explained the nausea, the dizziness, and the inability to simply breathe.
In the powder room, she’d run cold water on her wrists and taken the quiet time to give herself a pep talk, but it wasn’t really working. If anything, she was more of a wreck than ever. Last night, as she’d lain tossing in her bed she’d considered each possible scenario and come up wounded at every turn.
She could feel Wyatt getting ready to propose, and once he did, there were only two answers she could give.
Yes, she could rip her children away from her mother and sell the store that had been in her family for generations and follow Wyatt to the big, scary city and miss Keyhole for the rest of her life. Or no, she could stay single and spend the next two or three years climbing back out of a pit of depression over another broken heart. And then, miss Wyatt for the rest of her natural life.
She needed to go lie down. And stay down until she woke from this nightmare.
“Excuse me…”
Annie looked up at Jackson Colton’s rather wobbly approach, and at first she thought he was trying to make the melancholy girl in the corner smile with his silly antics. He held his hand out in front of his face and stared intently at it for the longest moment, then held it out to her.
“Can you tell me, does my hand look really huge to you?” He glanced up at Annie, concern lying just under his lopsided grin.
Annie returned his silly grin. “Is this a trick question?”
Jackson pushed his hand right up under her face. “For pity sakes, woman, look at it! My fingers are Polish sausages! My palms are like—” he stared intently at his palm “—they’re like hams. Say, look at that! They are so far away. And huge. They sort of have a life of their own.” He grew pensive. “I’d never really noticed that before this very minute. Our hands have lives of their own.” Slowly, his gaze floated back to Annie’s face. “My hands have left. I have to go follow them now.” He paused. “You are really beautiful, did you know that? Really, really beautiful. Like an angel.”
“Uh, thank you.” Annie stared uncertainly at him. She didn’t know Jackson very well, but this did not seem at all right. Yesterday he was the picture of charm and success, and now… It was almost as if he were having some sort of breakdown.
She knew she should be grateful. By comparison, she seemed to have it all together.
Jackson staggered forward and draping himself heavily over her shoulder, began to root around in her hair with his nose. Like a dog in search of a bone, he snuffled and emitted noisy guttural groans of pleasure. “You have great hair. Really, really wonderful stuff. Smells like…a meadow.”
“Oh, Wyatt?” Annie hated to break into whatever deep discussion he was having with Rand and Lucy, but she figured that at the moment, this was more important.
Still speaking in hushed tones, Wyatt turned and blinked, as if suddenly remembering Annie was there. “Hey, sweetheart. I was just talking about you.” He frowned as he noticed Jackson’s face buried in her hair.
“All good, I hope,” she chirped. She batted at Jackson and attempted to shrug him off her shoulder. Jackson’s hand roved down to settle at her hips. She smacked them off. “Jackson. Jackson, dear, I think I’ve found your hands.” Eyes wide, she mouthed a message to Wyatt. I think he’s drunk. She lifted a worried brow.
“You found my hands?” Jackson’s voice was dreamy.
“Yes, and they are being a little naughty. Perhaps you’d better put them away.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“They are too big for my pockets. And they keep getting out. They are growing boys.” Jackson’s hands snaked around Annie’s middle. “See?”
At the narrow look in Wyatt’s eyes, Annie gave her head an imperceptible shake. Jackson was out of it. Trying to reason with him on any normal level would prove fruitless, she was sure.
Rand and Lucy exchanged puzzled glances with each other, and then with an unamused Wyatt.
“Jackson, honey, why don’t you show your hands to Wyatt?”
“I love it when she calls me honey,” Jackson announced. “Isn’t she beautiful? Hair like fire. Fire. C’mon, baby, light my fire.”
“Jackson, Wyatt wants to see your hands.” Annie pulled her lips into her mouth. It looked as if Wyatt wanted to lop his hands off.
“Why? Is he a doctor?”
“I’m a lawyer, cousin.” Wyatt took a step closer.
“Oh, right. So am I! I’ll sue! I’ll sue the hand people. I haff defective hands. Jus look ah tha damned things. They’re huge! Like a couple a damned Christmash turkeys.” Jackson frowned. “Do my slurs sound word to you?”
“Jackson?”
“Yesh, Dr. Wyatt?”
“How much have you had to drink, guy?”
“One li’l glass of champagne. Thass all. I think…”
Luckily, no one but their immediate group seemed to be paying the slightest bit of attention to Jackson’s antics, with the lone exception of Meredith.
“Hello.” Her smooth, beautifully modulated voice took sudden command of their little group as she approached. Smile wide, her gaze flitted about, bouncing off Jackson whenever he managed to stumble into her sightline. “So, I see our Washington D.C. faction is huddled over here, sticking close together.”
“Just enjoying each other’s company, Meredith,” Wyatt said with a grim smile.
“I’ll bet.” Meredith tipped her head and tapped a cherry nail on her chin. “So, what have we been talking about?”
“Oh, this and that.”
“And my freakin’ hands,” Jackson put in, once again lost in the enormity of his appendages. He fell off Annie and wobbled over to Meredith. “Look at ’em! They’re huge. And so far away! I could get you thumbthing from tha food table, if you want. I don’ even half to walk over there. My hands will go.”
Annie glanced at Wyatt, then to Rand and Lucy.
“You don’t look so good, honey.” Meredith placed a delicate hand on Jackson’s flushed brow. “Perhaps you should go lie down.”
“You’d like tha, wouldn’ ya?” Jackson nuzzled her neck. “My auntie Meredith. Wants to take a nappie with her boozoom buddy.” He reared back and looked at her, then allowed his eyes to take a meaningful dip. “Speaking of huge, my, what big—”
Abruptly, Wyatt reached for his cousin, supporting him and turning him toward the exit. “How about some fresh air, buddy boy? That might fix you right up.”
Meredith placed a firm hand on his arm. “No, Wyatt, you have a guest. I’m the hostess. Jackson is my responsibility.”
Jackson flailed about, throwing off Wyatt’s hold. “I’m nobody’s sponsor. I have to go find my hands now. The regular size ones. Sho, if you will all excush me, I’m just going to go to my room and get them now.”
Meredith issued the little foursome a curt nod. “I’ll find Joe and see to it that Jackson makes it to his room all right.”
Mingling a little as she went, Meredith followed Jackson out of the great room and into the house proper.
“What the devil was going on there?” Rand stroked his jaw thoughtfully.
Lucy tsked in disgust. “She’s clearly looking for an excuse to escape the party. Her drunk nephew was just the ticket.”
Wyatt shook his head. “It’s sure not like Jackson to get wasted like that.”
“It could happen to anyone,” Annie said in his defense. “It’s his sister’s day. He might be feeling a little lost.”
“His hands certainly were, at any rate,” Wyatt said and they all exchanged worried smiles. “I’ll go check up on him after he’s had a little time to sleep it off.”
Save for a few servants rushing back and forth to the kitchen, the house proper was empty. Careful not to draw any undue attention to herself, Patsy followed Jackson at a discreet distance to his wing. After several botched attempts, he found the corridor that led to his room and Patsy was relieved to note that they were alone. Jackson ricocheted off the walls like an eight ball in search of a corner pocket, then finally stumbled upon his door and found his way inside.
Time was short. Patsy strode past his suite to a grandfather clock at the end of the hall. She checked over her shoulder to make certain she was still alone before she opened the small door that housed the clock’s heavy weights and reached inside. After she’d withdrawn a black cloth bag, she set the clock’s stalled pendulum in motion once more and hurried back to Jackson’s room.
Wearing only his BVDs, Jackson was just staggering out of his bathroom as she arrived. He leaned against the door frame, planted his hands on his narrow hips and tried, to the best of his limited ability, to focus on her.
“Meredith?”
Patsy gently closed the door behind her and gave the lock a twist. She swallowed.
He was built the way she liked a man. Hard. Lean. Muscular. Far more to her taste than his fleshy-from-too-much-good-life father. And though she was reticent to admit it, being that she hated him and all, Jackson’s powerful personality could be a real turn-on, too. When he was stone cold sober, there was a frightening edge to his demeanor that sent tingles up and down her spine.
She gave her head a little shake. Indulging in fantasy could wait. Right now she was here to do a job.
Delicious or not, this boy had to go bye-bye.
“Oh, Auntie. Look at you. Here to tuck me into bed.” His eyes were fully dilated and he wore a dopey smile.
“Yes,” she breathed, and clutched the cold steel of her revolver through the cloth of the bag. “Time for Jackson to go night-night.”
“Are you gonna wear jammiesh, too?” He pointed to her black bag.
“No. No.” She laughed and set the bag on his dresser. “Why don’t we get you into bed?” Attempting to seem casual, she sauntered over to the bed and pulled back the comforter. The sooner he was unconscious, the sooner she could take care of business.
“I like that about you.” He pushed off the door frame and negotiated the few steps it took for him to fall onto his mattress. “Alwaysh ready for bed. C’mom on in, the water’sh fine.” His hand snaked out and he grabbed her wrist and tugged.
Not expecting this sudden action, she fell down beside him and, flailing about, struggled to right herself. But even in his inebriated state, he was too strong. Before she knew what hit her, Patsy found herself pinned beneath his body.
“Jackson! Let go of me this instant!”
He ignored her and shoved her legs apart with his knee.
“C’mon, Auntie. You know you want it. We’re boozoom buddies, remember? Why don’t you give me a little kissh? The way you used to, back when I was a little boy.”
Patsy hated herself for the sudden rush of sexual excitement she felt at her predicament. Her wrigglings against him were a sorry attempt to free herself and, for a moment, she allowed herself to forget her mission.
“Mmm, baby.” He playfully bit her earlobe. “That’sh right. Relax. Let’sh bury that hatchet now, huh?”
His breath was hot on her neck, his words irreverent, his body, hard. She wanted him. How entirely idiotic. She was old enough to be his…well, his much older sister. It was ridiculous. Not, of course, that she was anything to sneeze at. After all, she spent a small fortune keeping herself in shape.
But still. She didn’t have time for this. She had to frame this jerk for murder, and then get the hell out of here.
“Auntie Meredith?” He pinned her legs beneath his and moved his arms between their bodies. “Hafe you sheen my hands? They sheem to be missin’ in action.”
Meredith gasped. Yes, his hands were most definitely enjoying being out on their own. “Jackson!”
“They’re huge, huh? And you know what they say…”
His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a dead weight on top of her body.
“Jackson?” She lay silent, waiting, unbelieving. He chose now to pass out? Of all the— She grunted in exasperation and tried to thrust him off, but he was limp as a solid lead noodle. Clearly, she’d miscalculated the amount of drug she’d needed when she’d doctored his champagne.
Near as Patsy could figure, he outweighed her by sixty to eighty pounds. Getting out from under him with her party hair intact and still finding time to complete her business was going to be tricky.
“Noah and Alex seem to be having fun,” Annie observed in a stilted voice as she and Wyatt took a stroll alone together through one of estate’s many gardens. She’d been desperate for some fresh air, and Wyatt had obliged.
The twins were out front with the ushers, decorating the limousine with tin cans and shaving cream. So far they’d had a bell-ringer day. After a morning pony ride, they’d eaten a sumptuous breakfast, played with Joe’s dogs, attended their first wedding and were now up to no good. It was a dream vacation from their vantage point.
“Mmm.”
“I don’t think they’ll ever forget the pony rides.” She wanted to keep the conversation superficial, the focus off her own problems. It seemed that as long as she didn’t think about the future, she was able to fake normalcy.
“Mmm.”
“Or the swimming pool.”
“Mmm.” Wyatt was clearly distracted.
“Or the space aliens that abducted them in the middle of last night and turned them into girls, which is okay, since I’ve always wanted daughters.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“No.” She plucked a bright flower from an oversized azalea and tucked it behind her ear. “You seem to be lost in thought.” After Jackson’s display back there, it was no small wonder. No doubt he was wanting to go check on him and make sure he was okay.
Wyatt abruptly stopped walking and, pulling her off the pea-gravel path, led her to an ornate concrete bench that was situated in the middle of a rose garden. Angling his head, he gestured for her to sit down next to him. The delicate fragrance of rose blossoms scented the air and off in the distance, music and laughter and voices could be heard coming from the reception.
Annie’s stomach grew tight at the suddenly serious expression on his face. Uh-oh. No. She wasn’t ready for this.
“Annie, I have been doing a lot of thinking over the last couple of days and the wedding here today just seems to…I don’t know, hammer the point home.”
She felt herself growing cold. Then hot. Feeling dizzy, she unbuttoned the top button of her suit jacket, then buttoned it again. Something told her that he wasn’t worried about Jackson’s sobriety at the moment.
Wyatt dropped off the edge of the bench to his knees. He took her hand and all of the air was suddenly sucked out of her lungs.
“Annie, I know this is going to seem kind of sudden and all, but it doesn’t feel that way to me. To me, it feels like I’ve been waiting all my life to do this.”
“Oh, Wyatt,” Annie croaked, beginning to panic in earnest. Not now. Not here. She wasn’t even on home turf, where she could cry and fall apart among friends and family.
“Shh, let me finish.” He touched her lower lip with his fingertip. “I only wish I’d had the good sense to do this when your father first got sick.” Settling himself more comfortably on his knees, he took a deep, calming breath and then smiled. “Annie, I love you now, more than I ever have. You have grown and matured into such a beautiful, graceful woman. I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished with your life. You are a wonderful mother, a hard worker, a good friend and daughter. You are talented beyond belief, and you make everything seem so easy. So comfortable. So safe.
“I’m the person I like to be, when I’m around you. You bring out the best in me. With you, I’m energized. Positive. Wanting to believe in the future. Happy.”
Gently, he brought her fingertips to his mouth and kissed them one at a time while he formulated what he wanted to say next. Obviously, this was difficult for him. He was making himself vulnerable to her, and that only increased her angst.
“Oh, Wyatt—”
“Hold that thought,” he whispered. “I couldn’t love your boys more if they were my own, and I know that relationship will only get better with time. I want to parent them. To teach them to be men, the way Joe did for me. I know from personal experience that it’s not biology that makes a father. It’s love. And commitment.”
Annie could not swallow past the lump in her throat. Tiny sobs backed up like a logjam behind her lips. Tears scalded her eyes and then her cheeks. Her breathing was as shallow as if she’d just run a mile. She felt light-headed. Faint. Her heart was thrumming a mile a minute, her arms were numb and she was sure she was in the throes of cardiac arrest.
He was so incredibly sweet. His words were what she’d waited her entire life to hear.
But the circumstances were still so wrong.
A keening wail sounded and Annie was dismayed to discover it had come from her own throat.
“No!” she gasped and leapt to her feet and began to stumble back to the path that led to the house. “I can’t let you do this.”
While Patsy listened to Jackson’s slumberous breathing in the next room, she checked her makeup and hair in his bathroom mirror. Not too much worse for the wear, she decided. Baring her teeth, she made sure there were no stray streaks of lipstick and with a last appreciative glance, declared herself perfect and ready to return to the party.
But first, she needed to attend to a bit of a chore.
Patsy moved to the dresser and retrieved her black bag. Nudging Jackson’s legs aside, she made herself comfortable at the edge of his bed and opened her bag removed the gun she’d found out by the cliff. Too bad it had been so dark that evening. All she remembered seeing was a black shadow.
Was there anything more beautiful than a 9mm automatic Luger? She stroked the dark metal shaft. Perhaps, but the sight of this key to her perpetual freedom excited Patsy nearly as much as the man who slept so soundly at her side.
She smiled, recalling Joe’s birthday. Now that was a party. But not to worry. Soon enough, everything would work out to her advantage.
Once she had the gun polished and clean, Patsy slowly reached for Jackson’s hand. When he didn’t stir, she grew bolder and pressed his hand around the gun’s barrel and stock, taking care to slip his finger over the trigger. Finally satisfied that she had all the incriminating evidence that she needed, for now anyway, she released his hand, slipped the gun back into the bag and after looking both ways down the hall corridor, returned to the grandfather clock to make her deposit.
Wyatt caught up with Annie just before she got to the path and dragged her back into the garden. And, just as he had done so many years ago, he completely ignored her cries of outrage, hauled her under a grove of trees and pressed her spine up against the nearest trunk. Even as she protested, she arched against him.
Heat flared in Wyatt’s belly. Dipping his head, he nuzzled her neck and filled his hands with her thick, wonderful hair.
“No,” she moaned and writhed, fighting to get away.
“Yes.” Like a man starved for over a decade, he dragged her mouth beneath his and hovered over her lightly parted lips. As she whimpered, he tasted her bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, nipping, nibbling, then muted her protests with his tongue.
He gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her flush against him so that every part of their individual bodies found its perfect counterpart. They fit together as well now, as they had when they were kids. Even better. His hands dropped to the gentle slope of her hips and he urged her ever closer.
Their kiss turned wild. Frantic. He spread his legs for balance and immobilized her between his body and the tree, as if by doing so, he could keep her from running. She clutched his arms for support and he had the feeling that his body and the tree were all that held her up.
“Wyatt, no,” Annie whimpered. “We shouldn’t. This will only make it worse.”
Even as she protested, she kissed him back with all the desire he felt building within himself. Wyatt was breathing like a freight train chugging uphill as he kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw, her mouth again. Annie’s breathing came in labored puffs as ragged as his own.
He felt her hands rise to cradle his head and she responded to his kiss with the ardent abandon of a full-fledged woman now. Annie was no longer a girl, and that excited Wyatt more than he ever could have imagined possible.
Again, as he had a decade ago that night in the trees next to the college library, he lost himself in her and felt their souls melding together. There would be no other life for him now, without Annie. He’d lived long enough as only half a human. She made him whole. He could not—would not—go on, without her.
“Listen to me,” he demanded against her slack lips. He dipped his head for another deep kiss that sent him to the edge of his control. “Just listen to me.”
His words seemed to bring her back to the present and she sagged. He could taste the salt of her tears as she started to cry.
She twisted her mouth away from his. “No, Wyatt. You have to let me go!”
The knot in his stomach grew in proportion to the size of his desperation. “You haven’t heard me out.” He grasped her flailing wrists to keep from catching one in the face.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“That you…” She sobbed and looked away, “That you are going to ask me to marry you.”
He froze. This was not the response he’d been living in his fantasy life all these years. In his dreams, he’d envisioned Annie falling happily into his arms at his proposal. The tears she shed would be tears of joy, not anguish.
She was slipping away once again, and suddenly he felt the same terror he saw lurking behind her eyes.
“No,” he murmured and tightened his hold on her wrists. “No. You can’t do this to me. To you. To us.”
She closed her eyes and lashes, spiked with tears, rested against her cheeks. “Damn it, Wyatt. Why did you have to come back to Keyhole and screw my life up this way?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Starting up our relationship like this is futile. Pointless. I live in Keyhole, Wyoming, for crying out loud! You live in Washington, D.C.! Long-distance relationships do not work. We proved that once already. I can’t afford the therapy bills.” She was growing hysterical.
“But that doesn’t have to tear us apart.” Ignoring his protest, she struggled against him, frantic to escape. “Annie, please! We can work this out.”
“No!”
“Yes!” He yanked her back up against his body.
This time the word was devoid of emotion. “No.”
Desperate to make her see reason, Wyatt crushed his mouth to hers once again, but as he did so, he had the sinking feeling that he was kissing Annie goodbye. This time for good.
Thirteen
It wasn’t until the plane had reached cruising altitude that the boys finally, blessedly, stopped crying. Annie was an emotional wreck herself, but she tried her best to be strong for them. Cheerful even. But she was failing miserably, and she knew it. She glanced over at their long faces. Though the tears had dried, the disappointment was still sharp.
“Mom, you guys said Wyatt was comin’ back home with us,” Noah moaned. Like most five-year-olds, it was hard for him to let a subject die. “Wyatt said he was gonna play space monster with us again.”
“And read to us.” Alex had thrust his lower lip out during takeoff and was still pouting.
“I’ve explained this to you both, over and over. Sometimes grown-ups change their minds. They realize that they have other important commitments and those things must come first.”
“Sean Mercury’s new dad didn’t have other commandments. He married Sean’s mom.”
“And now his new dad lives at Sean’s house and someday, he’s gonna adopt Sean and maybe Sean will get a new name. His mom already got a new name.”
“Cuz they were kissin’ and junk,” Noah reminded.
Annie closed her eyes as memories of Wyatt’s last kiss threatened to tip her over the precipice of her sanity. Before she’d given him another chance to propose, and thereby confuse her any further, she’d broken away from him and rushed to the house. Once back in her suite, she’d hurriedly packed, called a cab, grabbed the boys and bid the Colton family a hasty goodbye.
Luckily, they’d all inferred, by the wild look in her bloodshot eyes, the tear stains on her cheeks, the tomatoesque nose, that she was mourning the loss of her own marriage and the ceremony had simply been too much for her. They’d been more than helpful and completely understanding.
Wyatt, on the other hand, had not come to see her off. To try to talk some sense into her jumbled mind. Quite the opposite, in fact. As she hustled the boys out to meet the waiting taxi, she’d glimpsed him having drinks with Rand and Lucy back at the reception. He’d cast her a cool to-hell-with-you look and turned his attention back to Rand.
Life went on.
Whether she wanted it to or not.
As the tears came again, Annie pressed her face against the smooth glass of the jet’s window and watched the mountains slowly pass by below.
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“You cryin’ again?” Alex peered up into her face.
She pressed the back of her wrist to her eyes. “No, honey. No. I’ll be all right. I’m just feeling a little sad right now.”
“I really love Wyatt, Mom. I wish you did too.”
“I do, honey.” At this admission, Annie began to hyperventilate.
“Mom?” Noah craned his head past his brother for a better view.
Annie struggled to breathe. “Yes?” she gasped.
“You okay?”
“I’ll…be…okay…” Frantic, she loosened her collar buttons, then dug through the back pocket of the seat in front of her until she found an airsick bag. Flipping it open, she held it to her face and sucked in great gulps of soothing carbon dioxide.
This was ridiculous.
The bag snapped out, the bag whooshed in.
Noah stopped whining long enough to laugh at the funny picture she made.
Snap. Whoosh. Snap. Whoosh.
“I wanna do that,” Alex cried and grabbed his own air-sickness bag and began to imitate his mother. Not to be left out, Noah joined in. Whoosh snap whoosh snap.
Concerned passengers turned in their seats to stare. A flight attendant approached after the elderly woman across the aisle had signaled for help.
“Are you going to be all right, ma’am?”
Annie smiled weakly and nodded. “I’ll be all right.” Flopping back against her seat, she took another deep drag from the bag.
Whoosh. Snap.
“Would you like a glass of ice water?”
Bag bobbing, Annie said, “That would,” whoosh, snap, “be nice.”
“Airsick?”
Heartsick, airsick, whatever. Annie nodded. “Something like that.”
The flight attendant gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “Hang in there. It will all be over soon.”
Annie knew the stewardess was referring to the flight, but she had to wonder if her present troubles would ever be over.
Was she going to spend the rest of her life hyperventilating every time she thought about how much she loved Wyatt? Was she going to have to explain to her children why she’d chosen to keep them fatherless and miserable? Was she ever again going to enjoy living in Keyhole, when her heart was in Washington, D.C.?
Whoosh. Snap. Whoosh. Snap.
As her breathing slowed, the fog began to lift and Annie, for the first time in over a week, was finally beginning to think clearly. She shifted her gaze back out the window and an amazing revelation began to slowly take shape in her heretofore muddled mind.
She, Annie Summers, had been given a second chance.
How about that?
Her boys had been given a second chance.
They’d been handed a loving husband and father on a silver platter, and here she was, throwing it all away over a silly pile of Madrilla vases and butter churns.
What on earth was she thinking?
If she and the boys moved to Washington, D.C., they were only a phone call away from her mother and Brynn. MaryPat could fly out and see them as often as she wished. Annie didn’t know why she worried so about her mother. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d laid down and died when Judith and her husband and kids had moved to Iowa.
“Here you go, ma’am.” The flight attendant handed her a soda water and packages of peanuts for the boys. “Please, let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.”
Annie took the soda water and sipped. “No, no. Thank you. I think I’m going to be fine.” As she recalled the wounded look on Wyatt’s face, misery flared once more and she wondered if she’d blown it beyond salvation. “Eventually. I hope.”
The first thing Annie wanted to do when she got home was to call Wyatt. They needed to talk. She needed to apologize for her abhorrent behavior just as soon as she had a few minutes to herself.
Dragging their luggage behind them, the boys slogged in a foggy depression into the house and up to their room to unpack. Annie was worried about them, but knew she had to sort her own problems out before she could tackle theirs.
Annie took her luggage to the laundry room and, once she’d started a load of her delicates, rushed to the phone in the kitchen. She located her address book and picked up the phone only to discover Alex on the extension. He was talking to Sean Mercury.
“Nah. He doesn’t want to be our dad.”
“How come?”
“I guess he had a bad time with us on the trip. Me and Noah helped make a mess of the bride’s getaway car. Maybe that’s why he’s mad.”
Slowly, Annie hung up the phone. Her eyes slid closed and she sagged against the counter. Boy, she’d really done it this time. By trying not to hurt anybody, she’d ended up hurting everybody. Dully, she looked up as a knock sounded at her front door.
Brynn barreled past as Annie pulled the door open. MaryPat shuffled in behind her.
“What gives?” Brynn demanded in her typical all-business style. “You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow. I saw lights on over here and with what’s been going on around here lately, I thought I’d stop by and see what’s up. We’re just coming from dropping Em off at work…” Her voice trailed off and she peered at her sister. “Good grief, woman. You look like you fell out of a pitiful tree and hit every branch on the way down.”
“Mmm. Thank you.” Annie shuffled to the living room and flopped into a recliner. She motioned for Brynn and her mother to take a seat.
“What happened?” MaryPat settled in next to Brynn on the couch.
Annie decided to ignore their questions and counter with a few of her own. “Mama, would you mind horribly if I wanted to sell the store?”
MaryPat opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.
Annie looked from her mother to her sister. “And, Brynn, if Mama gives me the thumbs-up, would you consider listing it as soon as possible? I’d be happy to pay the going commission rate.”
For the first time in years, both women were completely speechless. They stared agog at Annie and then at each other.
“I—” Annie squirmed in her seat and twisted her fingers together. “I’m thinking of moving. To Washington, D.C. Over the last week, out of curiosity, I got on the Net and found out that there are some very nice, affordable neighborhoods with excellent school systems. And what with the Smithsonian and the monuments and the memorials, and that whole political scene, well, I just know it would be great for the kids, educationally speaking. And you know, without the burden of the store, I can focus on my kids. And my art. Which is something I’ve kind of always wanted to do.” She shrugged.
“He’s the one?” MaryPat asked with a smile.
“Mama, when he’s in the room it’s like there just isn’t enough air.”
“He’s the one.” She cackled like a turkey the day after Thanksgiving.
Brynn finally found her voice. “Wyatt has proposed?”
Annie shook her head. “No. But I’m going to. First chance I get.”
Her chin propped in her hand, Emily leaned over the café lunch counter and starred dreamily at Wyatt who was seated on a stool and picking at his fries. “So it was really beautiful, huh?”
“You’d have loved it. I’ve never seen a more beautiful bride.”
“I wish I could have been there.”
“Liza sends you her love. I know she wanted you to stand up with her, but she understands.”
“Why did you come back so early? I thought you and Annie were going to stay a couple extra days.”
“Change of plans. She wanted to get back yesterday. So she flew out shortly after the wedding. At first I was going to stay in Prosperino and then go back to D.C., but I got to thinking—”
“Just couldn’t stay away, huh?” Emily teased.
“Something like that.” Wyatt poked a fry in his mouth, but he was so sick at heart, it tasted like a stick of fried cardboard. “Anyway, I hopped a plane this morning and here I am. Just in time for lunch.”
Last night had been the longest night of his life. He knew he’d been a fool to chase her all the way here, knowing how she felt about marrying him, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Before he went home to Washington, D.C., he had to talk to her one last time. Get some answers. Answers that he could live with.
Hopefully.
Criminy. He couldn’t think about this anymore. His head was killing him. Time for a change of subject.
“So.” Wyatt dredged a fry through some ketchup. “How’d it go while we were gone? Toby any closer to catching that freak that broke into your place?”
Emily shook her head. “No, but he’s a lot closer. Toby moved in with MaryPat and me for the weekend.”
Wyatt hooted. “Sounds like a really weird Three’s Company rerun.”
Emily smacked him with a damp rag. “Funny boy. I have to say he did seem to love all the home cooking.”
“That’s the way to a man’s heart, you know.”
“Would you shut up? It’s not like that between us.” With her rag, she wiped up a dollop of ketchup off the counter near Wyatt’s plate. “Although, it was nice of him to stay on MaryPat’s couch all weekend. I felt safe with him so close. He’s a special man.”
“It’s love, I’m telling you.”
Emily giggled. “You’re so weird. Speaking of love, when are you going to pop the question to Annie?”
“I did, this weekend. Or at least I tried.” Wyatt sighed. Did he really want to go into this? Just talking about it made him feel as if his heart was a bloody ball of hamburger.
“You did?” Emily stopped cleaning the counter and gaped at him. “What’d she say?”
“No.”
Emily’s broad smile twitched, then faded. “No?”
“No.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“You’re not going to let her get away with that, are you?”
“What do you mean, not let her get away with that? She’s a grown woman. She can do what she wants. Marry whom she wants. She’s proved that once already.” Wyatt tossed his sloppy French fry back onto his plate and twisted his napkin in his hands.
“But you can’t just give up.”
“What would you suggest?”
“Fight for her this time! Last time you just let her walk out on you, without putting up a fight. Bad move, Wyatt. Women…” Emily said with a sigh. “We like our men to fight for us. Makes us feel wanted. Needed. Loved.”
Wyatt grunted. “How do you know?”
“I’m a woman.”
Wyatt stared at her in mild surprise. By golly, she was. When had his baby sister gone and grown up? “You think fighting for her is the answer, huh?”
“Yep. If it was me, I’d fight.”
Beneath his ribs, Wyatt’s heart began to pick up speed at the idea. Emily was right. He’d let Annie walk away once. It had been the worst mistake of his life.
She still loved him.
He knew it.
And he’d be damned if he was going to make the same mistake all over again.
Emily tossed her rag in the pail beneath the counter and, leaning toward him, took his hand. “Why don’t you find a place here in town? Move here and court her the old-fashioned way. Prove that you love her by just not going away. Finally, she’ll just get so sick of you hanging around that she’ll marry you just to get rid of you.”
Wyatt grinned. “You know, that makes a wacky kind of sense.”
“Call Brynn.”
He fished his cell phone and Brynn’s card out of his pocket and dialed.
“Hello?”
“Yeah, Brynn? It’s me. Wyatt.”
“Hey, Wyatt. What’s up?”
“I need a place to hang my shingle here in Keyhole.”
“Gonna move to Wyoming, huh?”
Odd. She didn’t sound surprised in the least. “Yup. So I’ll need a place to live and a place to work.” He winked at Emily who was crouching near, trying to follow Brynn’s half of the conversation.
“Well, you’re in luck. The Summer’s Autumn Antique building will soon be empty and the upstairs would make a wonderful apartment and office space.”
Wyatt stiffened. Emily hunched closer.
“The downstairs would really be better suited to a retail business than a law practice, but you could lease that space and make all kinds of return on your investment.”
“But—but—” Wyatt was reeling. He frowned at Emily. She frowned back, then pressed the side of his head with hers.
Brynn didn’t seem to notice his inability to speak. “Yes, the owner is highly motivated to sell. I guess she’s going to be moving to Washington, D.C., to be nearer to the man she loves. So, if you’re going to do it, move. The price is right, big guy.”
“I’ll take it,” Wyatt shouted and high-fived Emily. “I’ll take the whole damned thing. The upstairs, the downstairs and all the junk inside.” He hung up and, as he and Emily stood staring at each other and breathing hard, his cell phone rang.
“Wyatt Russell here.” He frowned, then grinned and held up a hand meant to stave off Emily who bounced around, made elaborate hand signals and whispered in his free ear, trying to get him to tell her who it was. “Yes. Right. Uh-huh, sure. Really? You’re kidding! You sold it already? To whom? Okay. Okay, yes, I’ll go talk to her immediately.”
Still dazed, Wyatt snapped his phone off, tossed a handful of bills under his plate, shrugged into his jacket and headed for the door.
“Hey!” Emily shouted. “Get back here! Who did Annie sell her store to? Wait!”
“Okay. You, too. Thanks for the fries.”
Annie knew he was in the room, even before she saw him. Her heart began to beat double time and suddenly, her lungs were starved for oxygen. Slowly, she turned from where she’d been polishing the stained glass shade of a Tiffany lamp and her gaze slammed into Wyatt’s.
He’d come back.
Even after she’d run off, he’d come back. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, and her heart—in the tradition of the Grinch—swelled two sizes times two. Before she even paused to wonder if she should go to him, her feet were flying, carrying her across the room and into his open arms.
“Wyatt!”
He slipped his arms around her waist and, lifting her up, swung her in a circle.
“Oh, Wyatt! I’ve been such a fool. I have so much to apologize to you for.”
“Isn’t this where I’m supposed to say, ‘love means never having to say you’re sorry,’ or something corny like that?”
Annie, laughing and crying, pressed a light palm over his mouth and rushed to spill everything she’d been wanting to tell him. “No. Because I am sorry. So very, very sorry. I should have let you finish. But I was so confused, I just couldn’t. But I’m better now. And I want to pick up on our conversation where we left off.”
Wyatt let her slide down his body and, cradling the back of her head in his hands, rained gentle, soft kisses across her lips.
“Wyatt, stop, please,” she murmured. “You’re making it hard to think.”
“Don’t mind me,” he urged, still kissing her. “Go on.”
“Mmm. Ah-hem.” She cleared her throat and closed her eyes. His mouth moved to her neck and sent a cascade of wonderful chills sweeping over her body. “Okay. Now then, I want to ask you…I want to ask…I want…I… Mmmm.” She allowed her head to loll back and thereby give him better access to that little spot in the hollow of her throat that had her pulses singing. “Uh, you know when you do that,” she said, giggling and squirming, “I have a hard time concentrating.”
“Me too.”
“Now stop it and listen to me. Because I have something very important to ask you.”
“Continue,” he urged, moving his way up her neck and to her jaw.
“Okay. Where was I? Oh, yes. Wyatt Russell, I want to make an honest man out of you.”
“That’ll take some doing.”
“Would you please be serious?”
“I’m being very serious.” He took her earlobe between his teeth and growled.
“Wyatt! Quit it, or I’m going to get mad.”
He dipped his tongue into her ear. “I love it when you’re mad. You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
“Oh, I give up.” Annie sighed and let him have his way with her, and when he moved his mouth over hers, kissed him back with all the desire that had been building during the years they’d been apart.
“Hey!” A youthful shout came from the playroom at the back of the store. “Alex! The space monster is back! And he’s kissin’ our mom!”
Alex whooped and the two boys came barreling out to greet Wyatt.
Wyatt caught them both up in a hug and for a few wild, noisy moments of reunion, chaos reigned.
“Watter ya doin’ here?” Noah demanded.
“I’m here to answer a question for your mom.”
“What question?” Alex wondered.
“I don’t know. She won’t ask it.”
“Ask him, Mom,” Noah instructed.
“If you’ll all just be quiet for a minute, I will.” Annie huffed and puffed and turned toward an antique dresser and straightened her clothing and hair in the mirror. When she felt that she was presentable, she turned to face her men. “Okay. Boys, I need you to be quiet for a few minutes here, okay?”
“Okay.” They nodded.
“Okay. Wyatt?”
“Yes?”
“Will you marry us?” She gestured first to herself, then to her boys.
Wyatt grinned from ear to ear.
Before he could answer, the boys went berserk. “Wyatt’s gonna be our dad! Wyatt’s gonna be our dad!”
“I’m gonna go pack,” Noah screamed.
“I’m gonna call Sean Mercury,” Alex shouted.
They dashed off and it was eerily quiet.
“Well?” Annie asked, her mouth suddenly dry, her palms suddenly clammy.
“Yes.”
“Oh, my.”
“Something wrong?”
“Suddenly, I can’t breathe.”
MaryPat and Brynn were right behind Emily as she burst through the door. “I’m on a break! I can’t stand the suspense. Annie! Who did you sell your store to? And why are you turning blue?”
Frowning with concern, Wyatt patted Annie’s back. “She says she can’t breathe.”
“What’d you do to her?” Brynn demanded.
“I accepted her proposal of marriage.”
“Ah.” MaryPat reached behind the counter for a paper bag. “Give her this and tell her to put it over her mouth. It’s just a little case of falling in love. She’ll be just fine in a few minutes. Used to happen to me with her daddy all the time.”
Wyatt complied as Emily continued to pelt him with screechy, giddy questions. “You guys are getting married? How wonderful! So who bought the store?”
Whoosh, snap. Annie looked at Brynn. “Someone bought the store?”
“Yes.”
Whoosh, snap, whoosh, snap. “Who?”
“Him.”
Whoosh, snap! Whoosh, snap! “Him?”
Wyatt nodded. “I’m moving to Keyhole.”
Whoosh. “You are?” Snap.
“Yep. I’m hanging my shingle out front and taking the space upstairs for my office. I have to have somewhere to transact business, if I’m going to practice law part-time.”
Emily frowned. “But who just called and said the store was already sold?”
Wyatt glanced from Emily to Annie. “That call wasn’t about the store. It was about one of Annie’s paintings. I sold one of her paintings through a gallery in New York. And they want more.”
“You did? They do?”
“Yes. And that’s why I’m only going to practice law part-time. The rest of the time I’m going to broker your art and help you run the store.”
“Well!” MaryPat clasped her hands together. “Isn’t that nice. Okay then. Em, let’s get you back to work. Brynn, come along. I have a ham in the oven and you know how Toby hates to wait.”
MaryPat hustled the girls out the front door, then turned and winked at Wyatt. “You’re a hell of a classy guy, Wyatt Russell. Welcome to the family. It’s about time.”
Wyatt grinned. “Thanks, Mom.”
When the door slammed shut, Annie looked up at Wyatt with awe. “You’re moving to Keyhole? Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Annie, my love, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I already gave Rand my resignation, just this morning.”
“You did?”
“Yep. Told him I was getting married, taking on twins and wouldn’t have time for the rat race anymore.”
“What’d he say?”
“Well, when he was done picking Lucy up off the floor, he congratulated me and wished me luck.” He dipped his head and planted a kiss on her neck that thrilled her to her toes. “I’m a very lucky man, Annie Summers.”
“As lucky as Sean Mercury’s new dad?” she teased, hearing the happy hubbub coming from her office.
“Twice as lucky,” Wyatt murmured, and covered her mouth with his.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Carolyn Zane for her contribution to THE COLTONS series.
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