Borrowed Dreams (Debbie Macomber Classics) (14 page)

He answered on the first ring, and even a distance echo couldn’t disguise how glad he was to hear from her.

“How was the wedding?”

“Wonderful. Oh, Brand, I can’t even describe how beautiful everything was.”

“Well, I certainly hope it had the desired effect. There’s only one wedding I want to attend, and that’s
ours
.” The teasing inflection in his voice didn’t mask his sincerity.

“Oh Brand, please don’t go there. I couldn’t bear to argue.”

“Arguing is the last thing I have on my mind.” His voice became low and sensual. “In fact, if you knew what I was thinking, you’d probably blush.”

“I do not blush.” She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t a shrinking violet.

Brand chuckled. “This time you would.”

“I take it you miss me.”

He laughed. “You have no idea.”

“But I’ve only been gone a day.”

“Almost two days. Not that I’ve noticed.”

“I can tell.”

“Well, come on. Say it,” Brand prompted.

“Say what?”

“How much you’ve missed me. I’m especially interested about what went on in that beautiful mind of yours when you heard your friend repeat her vows. Did you think of me and wish that I was at your side so we could say them to each other?”

“Obviously you crept into my thoughts or I wouldn’t have phoned.” Carly would admit to nothing. She wrapped a strand of hair around her ear. Sometimes Brand knew her as well as she knew herself.

“But you won’t admit to thinking about me during the wedding ceremony.”

“You’re right,” Carly said in a low, sensual tone. “I won’t admit to anything until I see you.”

She heard Brand’s swift intake of oxygen. “You’d better not have changed your mind about flying home Monday.”

“No, I’ll be there. But don’t say anything to George—he thinks I’m arriving later in the week.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

“Darn. I have a thing about sealed lips.”

“What’s that?”

“I never kiss them,” she announced, and the sound of Brand’s laughter mingled with the sound of her own.

They talked for almost an hour, and could have gone on for another. Even after she hung up, Carly itched to phone him back and say all the things she hadn’t had the courage to mention the first time. Only the knowledge that she would be back home Monday evening deterred her.

After talking to Brand, Carly took a hot bath, soaking up the warmth of the water. A chill had found its way into her blood. Tomorrow she would be driving to Purdy and the Purdy Women’s Correctional Facility. Jutta Hoverson hadn’t replied to Carly’s latest correspondence, but one thing was certain. It wasn’t the charcoal sketches Carly was interested in seeing. It was Jutta Hoverson.

*  *  *

Visiting hours were scheduled for the afternoon, so Carly had a late breakfast and lingered over the morning paper. She dressed carefully, wanting to appear neither too casual nor too formal. Finally, she chose a three-piece slacks suit that was just right. Fleetingly, she wondered if Jutta had any apprehensions about the meeting. Probably not.

Once at the center, Carly signed in at the desk and was asked to place her valuables in a rented locker. Carly had seen identical ones at airports and bus depots. She placed her purse inside, inserted the quarter, and stuck the key into her jacket pocket.

The waiting area was soon filled to capacity. An uncomfortable sensation came over Carly as she studied the others in the room. Not in the habit of making snap judgments about people, she was amazed at her immediate distrust of the few men who regarded her steadily. Carly admitted that she did stick out like a little green Martian. Compared to the others, she was decidedly overdressed. Her uneasy feeling intensified as the waiting area emptied. The visitors were led away in small groups to another room, where they walked through a metal detector and were briefly questioned. From there, each group was directed into a large room with several chairs against the walls.

There Carly took a seat close to the window and tried to ignore the iron bars that obstructed the view. The stark silence of the room was interrupted by a crying child who was pitifully asking to see his mommy.

An iron door slid open and the women prisoners filed into the room one by one. Carly had filled out a card when she entered the building, requesting to see Jutta Hoverson, but she had no way of identifying her.

The little boy broke loose and ran into the arms of one woman, who swooped him into her embrace. The scene was a touching one, and Carly wondered what the young woman had done in her life to be thus separated from her child.

“Are you Carly?”

Carly’s attention skidded from the youngster to the tall, thin woman standing before her. “Yes.” She rose. “Are you Jutta?” Never would Carly have envisioned Jutta this way. Her hair was long and hung in straight braids the same shade of brownish-red, except that it was mostly
gray now. The glasses she wore slipped down the bridge of her nose, and Carly doubted that they had ever fit her properly. Her clothes were regular street clothes, but drab and unstylish. Jutta looked as nervous as Carly felt.

“It’s good to meet you,” Carly began stiffly.

“They wouldn’t let me bring out the sketches without some kind of approval beforehand.”

“That’s all right.” The stilted, uncomfortable feeling intensified. “Can we sit down and visit for a while?”

Jutta shrugged one shoulder and sat. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a cigarette?”

“Sorry, no …”

“I forgot, they don’t let you bring anything in here, do they? I suppose you’re curious to know what I did to end up here,” Jutta challenged, clearly on the defensive.

The one thing Carly didn’t want to do was make the woman uncomfortable. “Not unless you want to tell me.”

“I don’t see why not. It’s a matter of public record. I forged checks, and it wasn’t the first time, either.”

“How long is your sentence?”

“Long enough. I’ve been in Purdy two years now and I don’t expect to get approval from the parole board for another two.”

“Did you start painting in … here?”

“Yes.”

“I thought the painting of the child was excellent.”

“I won’t sell that one.”

“Yes, I realize that,” Carly assured her quickly. “Since it obviously means so much to you, I don’t think you should.”

“What I can’t understand is why someone like you would want it.” Jutta’s deep blue eyes narrowed as they studied Carly. “You’re a regular uptown girl.”

That was probably the closest thing to a compliment that Jutta would give. “The picture reminded me of myself when I was five.”

“You were poor?”

Carly answered by nodding.

“You seem to be doing all right now.”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“You haven’t mentioned a man. Are you married?”

“No.” Carly shook her head automatically. “But … I’ve been thinking about getting married,” she said stiffly.

“It seems to me if you have to think about it, then you probably …”

“No,” Carly interrupted. “It isn’t that. I love him very much. But … well, he’s got children.”

“I’d have thought you’d be the type to like children.”

“I do.” Carly was uncomfortable with this line of conversation and sought a means of changing it. “Do … do you have children?”

“I’ve got a kid, but I never married,” Jutta stated defensively. “He’s grown now. I haven’t seen him in ten, maybe fifteen years. Last I heard he was in prison. Like mother, like son, I guess. Don’t keep in contact with him much.”

Carly hadn’t expected Jutta to be so honest. If anything, she’d thought the artist would rather not answer personal questions. “I don’t remember my mother,” Carly admitted softly, her gaze falling to her hands. “The state took me away from her and put me in a foster home when I was young.”

“Have you seen her since?”

“No. I did try to find her when I was twenty. But I didn’t have any luck. To be honest, I think her drugs and alcohol must have killed her.”

“A lot of women get hooked on that stuff. And worse.”

“I don’t feel any bitterness or anything. I can hardly remember her.”

“She beat you?” Jutta asked.

“No. At least I don’t think so.”

“Then you were lucky.”

“Yes,” Carly agreed. “I was lucky.”

*  *  *

Carly thought about their conversation as she drove back toward Seattle over the Narrows
Bridge. Jutta wasn’t at all what she’d expected. The woman was forthright and sincere. She was brusque and a little abrasive, but her life had been hard, her experiences bitter. In some ways Carly saw the mother she had never known in Jutta. And in other ways she saw reflections of the proud child of the painting.

Their conversation had been stilted in the beginning, but by the end of the hour they were slightly more comfortable in each other’s company. Jutta had explained far more about herself than Carly had expected. She said that there was a letter waiting for Carly in Anchorage and admitted, almost shyly, that she enjoyed getting mail.

Diana and Barney returned home early Sunday afternoon from their two-night honeymoon before their flight to Hawaii. They were both radiant.

“Welcome home,” Carly said, and embraced Diana warmly. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Barney’s got a business meeting this afternoon. And I wanted to get back early enough to pack and get ready for our trip.”

“I’ve already called for a taxi.” Carly glanced at her watch. “My flight leaves in another two hours.”

“But I thought we’d have time to visit.”

“Are you nuts?” Carly said, and kissed her friend on the cheek. “I’m leaving so you and Barney can begin your life together in peace.”

“We’re going to be so happy,” Diana said with confidence.

“I know you are. And I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than the two of you.”

“I can.” Diana’s happy gaze clouded with concern. “I want you to know this kind of happiness, Carly. You’re the closest thing I have to family. If you walk away from Brand, it’s something you’ll regret all your life.”

Unable to break the tension in the air, Carly hugged her friend again. “I’m not going to lose Brand,” she whispered the promise.

The taxi arrived ten minutes later. Amid protests from both bride and groom, Carly left. Diana and Barney, arms entwined, stood on the sidewalk waving as the driver pulled away. From her position in the backseat, Carly turned and blew them both a kiss. Leaning the back of her head against the seat, Carly closed her eyes for the remainder of the ride to the airport.

Although he hadn’t mentioned it, Carly was certain Brand would meet her plane. And
when she saw him she knew that look would be in his eyes again—the look that demanded an answer to his wedding proposal. She wanted to marry him, but pushing all her doubts and insecurities aside wouldn’t banish them.

Jutta had assumed that Carly couldn’t love Brand if she hesitated before marrying him. Yet just the opposite was true; every minute she was away she discovered she loved him more. Little by little, bit by bit, he had worked his way into her life, until she realized now how lost she would be without him.

Diana had said the time had come for her to grow up, to set aside the hurts of her childhood and deal with the realities that faced her. How simple it sounded. But she was dealing with emotions now. Not reason. So many times in the last few days Carly had caught herself wondering about Brand and Sandra. Such thinking was dangerous. And unreasonable. Sandra was gone.
She
was here now, and crazy in love with the leftovers of Sandra’s life.

With the approach of summer the days were growing longer. It would be dark in Seattle now, but when the plane touched down at the Anchorage airport the sun was still shining.

As she’d hoped and as she’d feared, Brand was there. She paused midstride when she saw him standing to the side, waiting for her. He seemed tired, and his eyes were sad. She hadn’t seen him like that since the night he’d first told her about Sandra.

When he smiled the look vanished, and her heart melted with the potency of it. Quickening her pace, she walked to his side. “Hi,” she whispered, her eyes not leaving his.

“How was the flight?”

“Uneventful.”

He took the carry-on bag from her grasp, his eyes not quite meeting hers. “All day I had the fear you’d stay in Seattle.”

“I told you I was coming back.”

He nodded as if he didn’t quite believe her. “I don’t know, Carly.” He ran a hand through his thick hair in an agitated action. “I’ve told myself a thousand times I was making a fool of myself. It’s not a comfortable feeling to think the woman you love is going to walk out on you without a minute’s hesitation.”

“Brand,” she argued, “I’m not going to do anything of the sort.”

Long strides took him to the area where they were to wait for her luggage. “I don’t like what I’m becoming …”

A chill came over her at the fear in his voice. Carly’s hand gripped his forearm. “Do I get a chance to say something or do I have to listen to your tirade first?”

“Go ahead,” he answered, without looking at her.

She swallowed. “I guess the simplest way of saying it is yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I want to be your wife.”

Brand blinked twice and then straightened. Carly watched as his face mirrored his confusion. “What did you say?”

“You did ask me to marry you, didn’t you?” For a fearful instant, she feared she’d been wrong. “And, by heavens, you’d better not have changed your mind. Not after all the soul-searching I went through to reach a decision.”

“I haven’t changed my mind.” An intense look darkened his eyes, and a muscle worked along the side of his jaw as his stared at her as though seeing her for the first time. He looked as if he couldn’t quite believe her. “Let’s get out of here.” He jerked her suitcase from the carousel at the baggage-claim area and ushered her out of the airport terminal.

Brand didn’t say another word until they were inside her apartment. “Now, would you care to repeat yourself?”

“I said I’d marry you.”

An incredulous light brightened his eyes as the beginnings of a smile spread across his mouth. “You mean it?”