Читать книгу When Love Walks In - Suzanne Carey - Страница 11

Cate was in her neat yellow-and-white kitchen by 9:00 a.m. the following morning, pouring out glasses of orange juice and making blueberry pancakes for Brian, who was upstairs showering. As she worked, turning the pancakes on an electric griddle and transferring them to a warm, covered plate, snatches of an erotic dream she’d had just before waking drifted through her head.

Try as she would to dismiss them, the dream fragments wouldn’t leave her alone. Ultimately she gave in and let them come flooding back. In the dream she’d been lying naked beneath a breeze-scented top sheet and soft, old quilt in the small upstairs bedroom at her parents’ bungalow where she’d slept as a teenager. Though in real life Danny had never set foot in that house, he’d walked into the room as if he owned it. Without a word, but with a brazen look that had touched off ripples of longing in her deepest places, he’d stripped off his clothes and turned back the bedcovers.

Like her, he’d appeared in his present-day incarnation, as the vibrant, thirty-five-year-old man who’d kept his promise of “no hands” the night before, yet managed to leave her quivering with arousal. To feel him stroking her sleep-warmed flesh, if only in the ephemeral pleasure of a dream sequence—to imagine him caressing her, relearning every curve and hollow of her body as he kissed her senseless—had been to inhabit a deeply missed paradise where she suddenly longed to dwell.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d continued to crave his touch, the soul-satisfying intimacy they’d once shared. I’ve been like a zombie without him, she thought. A virtual sleepwalker, just going through the motions. Without Larry’s quiet affection and support, all she had was Brian, and she didn’t want to lean on him too much. Meanwhile, the sensuous woman in her was hurting.

If only I dared to let Danny make love to me, she yearned. He seems to want that, too. As she removed several pancakes from the griddle that had scorched as a result of her inattention and put them down the garbage disposal, she could feel her nipples tighten beneath her sweatshirt. Loving Danny would be like wetting her face with rain after trudging through a scorching desert. It would be manna to her starvation.

In her real, everyday life, with its demands and obligations, nothing even remotely similar to what she was imagining could be allowed to take place. Though her attraction to Danny was as powerful as ever, it was effectively trumped by her concern for Brian’s welfare and her deep unwillingness to hurt the Andersons.

She tensed when the phone rang. Danny? she wondered, excitement and anticipation prickling her skin as she reached for the receiver. Would he call here and risk getting Brian? The answer, of course, was that he would if he wanted to—unless she forbade him the privilege. Not knowing what he might propose if he were on the other end of the line was tying her stomach in knots.

“Hello?” she said, picking up the receiver, her tentative greeting in the form of a question.

The unexpected rasp of her father’s voice in her ear almost made her jump.

“I suppose you’ve heard your ex-lover’s back in town,” he said without preamble. It didn’t take much imagination to picture the scornful twist of his mouth.

She forced herself to speak in a neutral tone. “As a matter of fact, I have,” she answered. “Brenda told me.”

He grunted, acknowledging the truthfulness of her reply by not challenging it. “That’s right. I forgot. She works in quality control. Has he contacted you yet?”

Cate didn’t like to lie. Yet she knew the truth would provoke a storm of accusations. “I haven’t seen him,” she answered, telling herself it was accurate in a sense. It had been dark in her side yard the previous night. She’d barely glimpsed Danny even as she’d surrendered to the heat of his kisses.

“And when you do,” her father demanded harshly, “I trust you won’t give him the key to the candy store again. You’re a grown woman now, a mother with a teenage son who looks to you as a model for his behavior.”

Brian was her Achilles heel. And her father knew it. She would never willingly do anything to hurt him. Or, for that matter, her in-laws.

“As for Larry’s parents,” Jack McDonough added, with his uncanny talent for drawing a bead on her vulnerabilities, “they’d be mortified if you tarnished their son’s memory by having an affair with the man who’s going to close down Beckwith’s only industry and put Beverly Anderson—not to mention your own father—out of a job. You know, don’t you, that if you let passion rule and allow him to have his way with you, he’ll just dump you again? Maybe not with a baby in your belly this time. But most certainly with egg on your face.”

Briefly, Cate’s wish to tell her father what she thought of him, knew no bounds. Yet by now she was expert at swallowing the invective he continued to hurl in her direction. “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, Dad?” she asked, her tone barely hinting at the sarcasm that had dripped in his. “I haven’t invited Danny to any sleepovers. Nor do I plan to do anything so rash. No one cares more about Brian’s welfare than I do. Not you, Mom or the Andersons, though they love him very much. I’d never do anything that could hurt him.”

“Are you insinuating we don’t love him?” he retorted.

Empty of talk, their telephone connection seemed to vibrate with hostility for a moment. With a sigh, Cate dismounted her high horse and did her best to placate her father. As always, eager to satisfy his morning hunger with a hearty breakfast, Brian would be breezing into the kitchen at any moment.

“Look, Dad,” she said. “I know this is a bad time for you. That if the plant shuts down, it’ll be like losing the hardware store all over again…”

“You’re damn right it will!” His voice broke, as if he’d abruptly found himself at the point of tears. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when Ben Overton called yesterday’s meeting and Danny Finn walked in, in the role of visiting executive from Mercator,” he added in a low voice.

“Did he say whether or not he’s going to keep the factory open?” Cate asked, hoping to steer the conversation toward the fate of Beckwith Tool and Die and away from Danny personally.

Her father grunted, recovering himself. “He mentioned something about taking stock. Seeing how the plant operates in its current incarnation.”

“That doesn’t sound as if he’s made his mind up yet.”

“Don’t you get it, girl?” Rage, gut-deep fear and a naked anguish poured from the receiver. “The Finn boy hates me,” her father said. “Maybe even more than I hate him. Whether or not he decides to keep the plant open, revamp and modernize it, he’ll fire me, sure. I’m just eight months short of the ten-year mark for receiving minimum retirement benefits. And I’m going to lose them. Thanks to the store going under ten years ago, through no fault of our own, your mother and I will have little more than a pittance to live on in our old age.…”

Cate got the impression that if she repelled any and all overtures from Danny, it would help him feel better somehow. She didn’t know how to answer him. Can this actually be happening? she wondered. Mom and Dad broke my heart when they pushed Danny out of my life, and now that deed has come back to haunt them. She tried to tell herself that surely the Danny she’d known wouldn’t have come back disposed to take his revenge out on them. Instead he’d be fair to them, despite past hurts.

Yet she was far from certain that would be the case. Danny’s treatment at her parents’ hands had been abominable, even in light of their rage at him for compromising their daughter. His abandonment of her—something she wouldn’t have thought possible until it had occurred—argued that, like Jack and Susan McDonough, he’d walked away from the Clermont County Sheriff’s Office that awful night in anger.

Brian chose that moment to saunter into the kitchen in impossibly baggy jeans, one of his oldest T-shirts and an oversize pullover sweater than had seen better days. His uncombed hair stood up in damp, dark-and-bleached-blond points. “Is breakfast ready?” he asked. “I wanna go over early and do some warm-ups.”

Cate pointed at the covered plate. “Help yourself, sweetheart. There’s warm syrup in that pan on the stove. And more orange juice in the pitcher. If you want, I can make you some hot chocolate.”

Her son shook his head. “Thanks. I don’t need it. Is that Gramps on the phone? Are he and Gram coming to the game?”

“Gramps” and “Gram” were Russ and Beverly Anderson. If he was feeling up to it, Bev brought Russ to Brian’s games in his wheelchair.

“No, it’s Grandpa Jack,” Cate said. “Want to talk to him?”

Brian shook his head. Grinned. “Not right now,” he said, digging into a stack of pancakes like a steam shovel. “I’m in a hurry.”

Her parents seldom attended school sporting events despite the fact that Brian had participated in them from the beginning of his freshman year. Cate’s mouth curved in a faint, ironic smile. It seemed Brian had their number, too. “Listen, Dad,” she said into the receiver. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to eat breakfast with Brian and take him over to school early so he can warm up. If you want, we can talk some more about this later. Try to come up with a way of handling it.”

Stony silence greeted her suggestion. Clearly, her father thought she was offering to intercede with Danny on his behalf and didn’t like the sound of it. “Don’t worry your head about us, miss,” he said brusquely after a moment. “Your mother and I will make it, even if he puts me out onto the street and ruins us financially. It’s you I’m worried about. He was trouble for you before, and he’ll be trouble for you again if you’re fool enough to let him get within a two-block radius.”

At the game Brian caught a twenty-five-yard pass and scored a crucial touchdown, putting Beckwith High in the lead with less than three minutes to go in the fourth quarter. The home crowd went crazy. Seated next to Brenda, Cate rocketed to her feet, screaming her approval. Her best friend did likewise. They were still waving pom-poms with Beckwith’s maroon-and-gold school colors and cheering for the lad who’d successfully kicked the extra point, when suddenly Cate spotted Danny.

He was standing below and to her right, near the sidelines, kibitzing with one of his former classmates who worked part-time for Beckwith High as an assistant coach. Tall, lean and dark-haired with an easy curve to his mouth, the kind of man movie cameras would love and any woman would adore, Danny was wearing faded jeans, running shoes and an expensive-looking tan parka. His hands were thrust into his pockets as if for warmth. Oh, my God, Cate thought, going hot and cold all over. When did he arrive? Has he seen me yet? I can’t bear to face him here, with the whole town watching!

As if he felt her gaze on him like a brush against his sleeve, Danny turned and glanced up, unerringly picking her out of the crowd. Briefly she thought she would lose her balance. He’s been watching me without my knowing it, she realized, steadying herself. Knowing this time, people will have noticed. And started to gossip. I’ve got to get out of here before I’m forced into a confrontation. Fortunately the game was almost over. Thanks to several bungled plays, Beckwith’s opponents didn’t have a chance.

“Brenda,” she told her friend hastily, breaking off visual contact with him, “I’ve got to leave. Now. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Hold on.” Clearly, the unaccustomed note of panic in Cate’s voice had caught Brenda’s attention. “Are you all right?” she asked, placing a hand on her friend’s arm.

Leaning closer, Cate whispered in Brenda’s ear. “It’s Danny. He’s here. Behind our team, standing next to Don Vandemore. I don’t want to run into him in front of all these people.”

To Cate’s chagrin, Brenda couldn’t stop herself from glancing in his direction. “You want me to drive Brian home?” she asked after a moment.

Cate shook her head. “Thanks. But no. He’s going out after the game with some of his teammates.…”

Just then, one of the opposing players fumbled, and everybody in the stands jumped to their feet. It looked as if Beckwith would get another chance at the ball in the closing seconds. Without another word to Brenda, Cate brushed past their neighbors as the officials conferred, and headed down the steps, keeping a perpendicular wall of bodies between her and Danny’s line of sight. By returning to the field early after dropping Brian off, she’d snagged a convenient parking place. In less than a minute she was behind the wheel of her hatchback, turning her key in the ignition.

She didn’t realize Danny had seen her leave until she was driving down the gravel track that led to the exit onto School Street and saw him in her rearview mirror. He was running after her, motioning for her to wait. Instead she pressed down on the gas pedal. It was only when she reached Beckwith’s somewhat diminished commercial area that she noticed she was almost out of fuel.

I doubt if he’s pursued me here, she thought, glancing into her rearview mirror and breathing what she told herself was a sigh of relief when his image wasn’t reflected there. It’s probably safe to stop at Miller’s and pump a few gallons. In the interest of composure and sanity, she didn’t stop to examine the regret she felt too closely.

Turning into the station-cum-garage where Danny had worked as a teenager, she pulled up to the gas pump and switched off the engine. She was about to lift the nozzle from its cradle preparatory to inserting it into her tank when a man’s hand grabbed it first. To her distress, it belonged to Dean Lawler, Brenda’s abusive soon-to-be-ex-husband. Unnoticed by her when she pulled in, his squad car was parked on the other side of the pumps. He was wearing his deputy’s uniform.

Didn’t he ever sleep?

“Let me do it for you, Cate,” he said, flashing her the kind of smile that bordered on a leer. “A pretty woman like you shouldn’t have to pump her own gas. You need a man in your life to perform that kind of service.”

It won’t ever be you, Cate retorted silently. I despise the kind of “help” you stand for. If dating you is my only option, I’ll gladly remain a wallflower.

Even before his breakup with Brenda, Dean had ogled Cate at every opportunity. It wouldn’t be long, she guessed, before she’d be the unwilling recipient of a proposition from him. Not to mention the object of his resentment when she turned it down. It occurred to her that she might have done better to remain at the stadium and take her chances with the inevitable gossip that would occur if her friends and neighbors saw her talking to Danny. Then again, in light of their concern about the plant and the chance that they’d mob him with questions about its future once the game was over, she might have managed to avoid speaking to him altogether.

Meanwhile, Dean was asking her how much gas she wanted.

“I’d rather pump my own, if you don’t mind,” she said.

As expected, he didn’t relinquish the nozzle. His offensive grin broadened to a full-fledged smirk.

“My treat,” he insisted grandly. “Shall I fill ’er up?”

The unspoken symbolism of the nozzle and the gas tank wasn’t lost on her. She wanted to slap his face. “Suit yourself,” she answered. “I’m going inside to use the rest room.”

By the time she emerged, he’d already paid. Meanwhile, circumstances had let her off the hook. He’d received a radio call from his dispatcher about a minor accident on Route 32.

“I’d like to stay and chat, but I’ve gotta go,” he said, taking his place behind the wheel of his squad car with obvious reluctance.

Aware she should thank him, she did so with reluctance.

“Don’t mention it,” he reassured her. “If you want, you can cook me a meal sometime. Know what, Cate? You look better every day. Unlike Brenda, you haven’t put on a pound since high school. When I’m shed of her, you and me are going to rock and roll.”

He was off with his roof lights flashing and his siren going, filled to the brim with self-importance before she could frame a retort.

“Not if we both live to be a hundred,” she told him silently.

The phone was ringing as she walked in her front door. Brenda, I suppose, she thought, racing to answer it.

“Hello?” she said a trifle breathlessly.

It was Danny. “Cate?” he asked. “Got a minute to talk?”

Her heart hammering against her rib cage, she answered in the affirmative.

She could feel him relax a little. “I was hoping to catch up with you at the game,” he said. “We really should exchange a few words. Find out how life’s been treating each other.”

To her relief, he didn’t take her to task for avoiding him. “All right,” she agreed, suddenly willing to do what he asked. She wondered if he planned to come over. It would be better if he didn’t. The sight of his car parked in her driveway would set tongues to wagging—and send her father’s blood pressure through the roof if he happened to spot it there. Yet she couldn’t think of anyplace else to suggest.

“Unfortunately, I have to fly back to Chicago to prepare for a Monday-morning board meeting,” he said, letting her off the hook. “So it can’t be today. I’ve chartered a small plane for convenience’s sake. I’ll be taking off from Ryersville Municipal later this afternoon. I should be able to make it back in plenty of time for Monday evening’s get-together. Meigs Field, Chicago’s lakefront general-aviation airport, is just a five-minute taxi ride from my office if the traffic isn’t too heavy.”

Overwhelmed by the fact that they were having an actual conversation and he was giving her a glimpse of his life, the way people did when they were connected in some way, Cate didn’t immediately catch the drift of what he was saying. “Monday evening’s get-together?” she echoed in a puzzled voice.

“The Save Our Jobs, Save Our Town meeting. I agreed to attend and answer questions from the townspeople. I was told you were on the committee.”

In fact, she was. She’d promised to take notes. Feeling like an idiot for being so focused on him that she couldn’t think straight, she confirmed his impression and explained what her role would be.

“Well, then,” he said, sounding a little more relaxed, “we can spend some time together afterward. Drive over to Ryersville for a beer if you want. It would give us a little more privacy.”

Apparently he didn’t relish the prospect of everyone in Beckwith looking over their shoulders any more than she did. Or a run-in with her father. Meanwhile, the warmth in his voice was giving her goose bumps.

“Okay?” he prodded when she didn’t answer him.

I’d be crazy to turn him down, considering the way I feel, she thought. When he walks out of my life again after making up his mind about the future of Beckwith Tool and Die, it’ll probably be for good. We won’t have any further reason to see each other.

“Okay,” she agreed.

She could almost picture the curve of his mouth, the little grooves that bracketed it.

“Then it’s a date,” he said, making no attempt to hide the satisfaction he felt. “I’m counting on you to keep it, Cate. Don’t disappoint me.”

If he’d kept his vows to me when we were kids, we wouldn’t be strangers now, she thought. Instead, we’d be husband and wife—lovers of long standing with several additional children to our credit. The way things stand, he’ll never know that we share a bright and talented son who bears an uncanny resemblance to him.

“I’ll try not to,” she said, doing her best to keep the deep sadness she suddenly felt under wraps.

Danny hadn’t arrived by the time Cate slid into her place at one end of the committee table in the town library’s reception and circulation-desk area on Monday evening. The folding chairs several of the men on the committee had set out in rows were filling up fast. Before long it would be standing room only. But then, she’d expected the meeting to be packed. The future of Beckwith Tool and Die would affect a lot of lives and pocket-books.

Thank goodness Dad’s too upset and angry to show his face, she congratulated herself. If he came, I wouldn’t be able to exchange a word with Danny, let alone accompany him to Ryersville after the meeting. Afraid her father would change his mind and show up for the sole purpose of embarrassing her and making trouble for the man he hated, she kept glancing nervously at the double glass doors that led to the street. To her relief, Jack McDonough didn’t appear.

Neither did Danny. It was beginning to look as if he might be late.

Cate smiled when Brenda walked in, waved at her and took a seat. She didn’t expect her mother-in-law to attend the meeting. Beverly Anderson had phoned around suppertime to say that Russ was suffering from a bad cold and she thought it best to stay at home with him.

Though Cate knew most of the people who were arriving and nodded hello to some of them as they took their seats, all her real attention was focused on waiting for the dark-haired man who’d disappeared from her life seventeen years earlier. He might break his word to me, but he wouldn’t stand up the whole town, she reassured herself. He must be delayed for a good reason. Maybe it was pouring rain in Chicago and he couldn’t take off in a timely fashion. Or his meeting lasted longer than expected. She imagined him dashing out of the ground-floor lobby of some tall, concrete-and-glass building and hailing a cab to the city’s small, lakefront airport, urging the driver to “step on it” in the crush of rush-hour traffic.

Her newly acquired ability to visualize Danny in the setting where he lived and worked instead of trying to picture him in a vacuum was a luxury she’d never expected to possess. Each detail was precious. She’d spent the weekend and whatever quiet time she could snatch during her busy day of teaching English literature to indifferent teenagers wondering what his apartment was like. Or if he had a house in the suburbs. Trying to envision him in his office setting. With friends. At sporting events. Kicking back in one of his favorite hangouts.

She hoped they could leave together after the meeting without attracting too much attention. Of course, a handful of people were bound to stay on, hoping to put in a good word for themselves or the plant, emphasize its potential for growth and plead for its importance to the small Ohio town where Danny had grown up. They were bound to notice if she stayed, too, and then left with him. Somebody would resurrect the story of their teenage romance, and the inevitable gossip about them would spread, if it hadn’t already.

Yet she didn’t want to drive her own car to Ryersville and meet him there. For once, in almost two decades of missing him, she wanted to be a passenger while he drove, his “date,” in a sense, even if their relationship had to be fleeting.

Despite their limited interaction since his return to Beckwith—a brief phone conversation and a few ill-advised seconds spent pressed to the side of her house in each other’s arms—she’d fallen hard for him again. And she didn’t know what to do about it. Reason and her very real concern for the other people she cared about argued that renewing her relationship with him would never work.

Unfortunately, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. Now that they’d made contact, she couldn’t bear to lose him again. Yet that was exactly what would happen, she guessed, once he’d resolved the Beckwith Tool and Die situation.

I can’t leave with him, in the unlikely event he asks me to, she thought. Keeping the secret of Brian’s parentage from him would mean living a lie. Yet she couldn’t tell him the truth without hurting the other people she loved. The trauma Brian would suffer if he found out Larry Anderson hadn’t been his real father was too painful to contemplate. She doubted he’d ever recover from it. Or find it in his heart to forgive her for her deception.

Another, more frivolous part of her wanted to impress Danny with how good she looked. Accordingly, she’d dressed up for the meeting. Though its cut was modest, the plum wool-jersey dress she’d worn to school that day clung lightly to her body, calling attention to its slender-but-shapely curves. Her favorite pearl necklace, a gift from Larry on their tenth anniversary, gleamed around her neck.

As the time for the meeting to begin drew closer, the remaining seats filled up. A dozen or so latecomers had taken up standing positions in the back and along the sides of the reception area. Finally, after several glances at the old-fashioned clock above the circulation desk, Beckwith’s mayor, Bud Harvey, who’d agreed to serve as committee chairman, called it to order.

“I want to thank everyone for coming,” he began in his somewhat plodding but friendly way. “We were hoping to have Mr. Daniel Finn, of Mercator Engineering, here to answer your questions about the future of Beckwith Tool and Die. Apparently, he’s been detained. I’m sure he’ll be with us momentarily. Maybe in the meantime we could spend a few minutes going over the various points we want to raise…”

Just then, one of the library’s double glass doors opened to admit another straggler. Danny walked in behind him. He was wearing a tweed sports jacket, indigo shirt and soft-looking tan chino trousers. He appeared somewhat tired, as if he’d had a long day. Cate could feel the color rise in her cheeks as their eyes met.

“Ah, Mr. Finn…glad you could make it,” Bud Harvey greeted him.

Danny smiled. “Sorry to be late. We ran into some fairly strong headwinds flying out of Chicago.…

Seconds later everyone was talking at once. Characterized by strong, if suppressed, emotions from the time its participants had settled in to wait, the meeting degenerated into chaos before Cate could catch the rest of what Danny was saying. As if with one accord, everyone got to their feet and pushed toward the back of the room. Their voices raised to a pitch that made it difficult to hear anything, they surrounded him, demanding information and posing a barrage of worried questions. Though Bud Harvey pounded his gavel repeatedly in an effort to restore order and recall them to their seats, he was unsuccessful. Clearly disgusted by the way the meeting had been hijacked, he gaveled the formal session to a close.

For his part Danny set about answering the questions that were thrust at him from every side. The way things are going, it’ll take several hours for him to satisfy everyone who wants to talk to him, Cate realized. I can’t hang around on the pretext that I might be needed later. It isn’t going to be that kind of meeting. Getting to her feet, she put on her coat and picked up her purse.

Her hope that Danny wouldn’t notice her departure was quickly dashed. “Wait for me,” he mouthed as she edged past the crowd of people surrounding him.

So this is how a butterfly feels when it’s caught in a net, she thought. “If I can,” she responded in like manner, inclining her head toward the building’s exterior.

A moment later she was outside, alone and unobserved in the cool night air. From her vantage point on the library steps, she could see Danny through the panes of the glass doors, doing his best to answer the barrage of questions he was receiving. Quite a few of the people who were pressuring him for answers and, above all, reassurance, were people he’d known as a teenager. Like her father, some of them had looked down on him, criticized his grandmother and his uncle as misfits. Now he held their futures in the palm of his hand. They were arguing, begging and pleading with him to keep the plant open for the sake of their town and their familiar way of life, their families and their livelihoods.

Mesmerized, she assessed his friendly, noncommittal way of responding to them. He’s probably telling them he hasn’t studied the situation adequately to give them any hard-and-fast answers, she thought. And I’m sure that’s the literal truth. Still, though she hated the way some of them had treated him in the past, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for them. It hurt having to watch them grovel.

Hanging around here isn’t going to work for me, she decided. I don’t want to be angry with Danny for flaunting the power life has granted him over old enemies, because he isn’t doing that. Instead, he’s being unbelievably gracious. It’s just that I don’t like seeing my friends and neighbors beg. Nor do I want to be caught waiting for my former lover when people start coming out the door.

She almost jumped when an elderly woman she knew slightly did just that.

“Hello, Mattie,” Cate said with some embarrassment.

“Well, Cate!” Seventy-seven-year-old Mattie Stoneking gave her a benevolent smile. “I thought you’d left, honey. Guess you just need a breath of fresh air. Could you possibly give me a ride home? My grandson had to work tonight. He has a second job, you know. Now that he and Carol are the parents of twins and she can’t work, finances are tight. I promised to come in his place. But it’s such a mad scene in there. Impossible to learn anything. My grandson’s not supposed to pick me up until ten o’clock. I thought maybe I’d walk home, since it’s only a couple of blocks. But my arthritis is acting up…”

Cate didn’t see how she could refuse her. “I’d be happy to give you a lift, Mattie,” she answered, accepting her fate. Relieved in a sense, though she was disheartened by the way the evening had turned out, she ushered the older woman to her car.

Brian hadn’t returned home by the time she unlocked her own front door. Damn him! she thought, swearing in her irritation. He’s out past his curfew again, with his friends on the varsity football team. To her added distress, most of his friends had driver’s licenses.

After pacing restlessly for the better part of an hour, she’d just settled down in the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate when the phone rang. About to reach for the receiver, she decided to let the answering machine pick up. I doubt it’s Brian, she thought. It’s totally out of character for him to call and alleviate my worries.

“Cate,” Danny’s voice said. “Are you there? Say hello.”

She remained mute, seated at her kitchen table.

He let several seconds pass. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” he asked. “We had plans, remember? Are you afraid you might still have some tender feelings for me locked up in your heart?”

Another silence ensued. Sorely tempted to pick up the receiver and answer him despite a strong feeling that it would be a mistake, Cate held her tongue.

At last, he spoke again. “Look,” he said. “Maybe you’re not home. Maybe something came up. If so, I apologize for ragging on you. Call me on my cell phone when you get a chance. I’ll have it with me tonight, at the house. And tomorrow morning, at the plant…”

He repeated the number twice, giving her ample time to grab a pencil.

Though she didn’t return Danny’s phone call, they met again much sooner than she’d expected—the following afternoon at Clingers’ Market. She’d stopped by after school to pick up a few things for her larder. She was just reaching for a can of peaches in order to make cobbler for dessert that evening when he spoke her name in a low, sexy whisper.

Startled, she dropped the can. To her mortification, it rolled down the aisle and lodged under another shopper’s cart. Luckily, the woman pushing it wasn’t anyone Cate knew well, though she’d seen her around town occasionally.

“Sorry,” Cate apologized as Danny retrieved the can and handed it back to her.

The woman smiled. “No harm done.”

Seconds later she’d disappeared into another aisle. The store wasn’t crowded, and for the moment, at least, they were unobserved.

“How did you know I was here?” Cate said, aware the question had combative overtones.

Danny grinned. “I saw your car. You know…the one you were driving when you took off from the football field in such a hurry the other day.”

“Trust you to remember,” she returned peevishly.

He laughed outright. Moved a step closer to her so that they were standing just inches apart. She could smell his aftershave, his remembered skin scent. If only circumstances didn’t have to keep us apart, she thought.

“It’s like this, Cate,” he said, his voice quiet and uncompromising, yet as delicious to the woman in her who still loved him as honey from the comb. “Your reasons for leaving me in the lurch last night are ancient history as far as I’m concerned. What matters is that I want to see you. In other words, to date you. I don’t plan to take no for an answer.”

Sorry, Cate balked without putting her objection into words. It would be much too dangerous. Ultimately Brian and the Andersons would have to know the truth.

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” she said at last, starting to reach for another can of peaches and then dropping her hand, letting it rest on the handle of her shopping cart. “My life is settled. I have a demanding job, and I’m the widowed mother of an active teenager. At the moment that’s about as much as I can handle. Meanwhile, you have your life in Chicago…”

He doubted he’d be in the Windy City for long after finishing his work in Beckwith. But he wasn’t ready to tell her about his future options just yet. First, he wanted to see if she had any interest in spending some time with him. About to ask if they could go somewhere, anywhere at all, and talk, he dropped the notion when her son suddenly appeared.

“Brian! What are you doing here?” Cate asked in surprise.

“I saw your car in the parking lot.” He gave Danny a questioning look. “I was wondering if, um…”

As usual, Cate guessed, he hoped to bum a few dollars from her. And for once she was more than willing to give them to him—if it would shorten the amount of time he spent in Danny’s company. “I suppose you’re weak from a lack of junk food,” she quipped nervously, digging in her purse. “Well, I’m not the sort of mother to starve a growing boy.”

Brian pocketed the crumpled bills she handed him with obvious surprise that she’d been such an easy touch. “Thanks, Mom,” he muttered.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Danny asked.

It was the moment she’d dreaded since before Brian’s birth yet perversely had longed for with all her strength. Tears welled and she struggled to hold them back. I’m not sure I can handle this, she thought. The need to introduce my son to…to his fa-ther…without telling either of them about the relationship…is so poignant, so ironic I could choke. Yet, if she couldn’t manage it, they’d both demand to know the reason.

“Danny, this is my son, Brian,” she said, amazed at the calm, somewhat expressionless words that came out of her mouth. “Brian, this is Danny Finn, the man whose job it is to decide what will happen to the plant where Grandma Beverly and Grandpa Jack work. He grew up around here. We went to school together. He played basketball for Beckwith.”

Once again her insistence that Brian behave in a mannerly fashion around adults paid off. “How do you do, sir?” he said politely, offering his hand. “If you played basketball, you must have known my dad.”

With equal courtesy Danny took it. “Glad to meet you, son,” he said, unknowingly driving a stake through Cate’s heart. “You’re right. I did know your father. He was a couple of years ahead of me in school. By the way, that was some touchdown you made on Saturday.”

Brian gave him a surprised look. “You were at the game?”

Danny nodded. “Where’d you learn to run like that?”

To Cate’s amazement, Brian flushed with pride. “We’ve got a pretty good coach,” he said modestly. “Sorry I can’t stay and talk, sir. But some of my friends are waiting outside.”

A moment later he was off in the direction of the chips and the soft-drink aisle.

“He’s a good-looking boy,” Danny said with a smile. “How old is he?”

“Fifteen.” Cate winced at perpetuating the falsehood she and Larry had begun at her father’s insistence. Of course, this was one of the moments it had been crafted for. Meanwhile she was painfully aware of Danny’s calculations.

“Your romance with his father happened pretty fast after me,” he said finally. “Too bad I didn’t leave that kind of imprint.”

It was Cate’s turn to blush. She could feel the heat of it creeping up into the roots of her hair and staining her cheeks. Incredibly, Danny was telling her he wished he’d impregnated her. Yet in real life he’d left her in the lurch without any thought that he might have given her a baby. She was keenly aware of the covert glances some of the store’s other patrons were casting in their direction.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think he’s mine,” Danny added. “He’s a little too young for that. Besides, if he had been mine, your father would have made you get rid of him before he had a chance to draw breath.”

He wanted to, Cate told him silently, furiously, wondering if she would get through their conversation without dying of pain and embarrassment. I wouldn’t let him. I phoned my parents’ pastor in Ryersville and begged him to intercede on my baby’s behalf.

“You must be very proud of Brian,” Danny added. “I wish I had a son like him. Unfortunately, I don’t have any children.” He paused, smiled, as if in an effort to dispel the disappointments life had dealt him. “Kids his age sure do favor some awful haircuts.”

Despite the added pain his remarks had caused, Cate couldn’t help smiling back at him. The moment she’d dreaded had come and gone, and she’d lived through it. “I figure if I don’t protest or give him too much flak about things like his hair and that earring, his protest gestures will run their course a lot more quickly,” she said. “Indifference seems to lower their shock value.”

Danny nodded. “You sound like a wise and loving mother.”

The compliment tugged at her heartstrings. “I hope I am,” she answered. “I try to be. Like most parents of teenagers, I need all the luck I can get. Since joining the varsity football team while he’s still a sophomore, he’s been running with a faster crowd. Most of his friends have driver’s licenses. I can’t help worrying.…”

Danny looked as if he wanted to take her in his arms. Invite her to nestle there. Vow to protect her against whatever danger threatened. Yet he left me when I most needed him, she thought. I’d be wise not to trust him now, even if I could.

“Well, it seems we’ve had our talk, after all,” she said. “I guess I’d better finish rounding up the rest of my groceries.”

Though he acquiesced, leaving her alone long enough to gather a bag of chips, a loaf of bread, some lunch meat and a six-pack of beer, Danny turned up beside her at the checkout counter. “We’re together,” he announced to the startled young woman behind the cash register, plunking down a hundred-dollar bill and his minimal purchases next to Cate’s.

“I can’t let you do this!” Cate protested, digging in her purse for the second time that afternoon.

“Too late…I already have,” Danny insisted. “C’mon…I’ll help you stash this stuff in your car.”

Outside the market he was as good as his word, neatly arranging her groceries in the cargo space of her little hatchback.

“I suppose I should thank you, even if you’re embarrassing me to death,” Cate said, aware several people were craning their necks.

In response, Danny meshed the fingers of his right hand with her left and slipped both hands into the patch pocket of her corduroy skirt. An intimate, almost erotic gesture, it made her resistance go weak.

Much as he reveled in the feeling of intimacy it gave him, a shadow crossed Danny’s face. For perhaps the millionth time he wondered why she’d never answered any of his letters. Or bought a bus ticket to Chicago with the money he’d sent. Had she adopted her parents’ view of him after the debacle they’d suffered at the Heart’s Desire Motel and later at the Clermont County Jail? If so, she no longer seemed to feel that way. Yet something was keeping the wall that had sprung up between them firmly in place.