Home to Eden (12 page)

❧

"Why do I feel like a prisoner being marched to the guillotine?" Nick said as he and Gareth stepped out the front door and into the sunlight.

"You want to tell me what happened back there?" Gareth's expression was grim.

"Why should I? You obviously think you already know." Nick headed for the parking lot with long, ground-eating strides.

"Am I wrong?" Gareth kept pace with him easily.

"Aren't you supposed to read me my rights before you interrogate me?"

"Dammit, Nick!" Gareth drew a deep breath and continued in a calmer tone. "I'm not interrogating you. I'm just concerned about what Kate is thinking right now."

Nick stopped next to the Harley and reached for his helmet. His anger was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving him drained and weary to the bone. He turned and looked at his brother, his eyes carefully emptied of expression.

"Kate isn't thinking anything at all except that she thought she'd hurt herself worse than she did." His mouth twisted in a bitter half smile as he mounted the bike and reached for the key. "You don't have to worry about explaining any skeletons in the family closet."

"I didn't mean it that way," Gareth protested.

''Didn't you?" Nick turned the key, letting the roar of the engine drown out any reply his brother might have made.

Without looking at Gareth again, he put the bike in gear and backed out of the parking space. When he reached the street, he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw his brother standing in the same place, looking after him. His jaw tightened and he gunned the engine, sending the big bike roaring into the street.

❧

"Did I just see Gareth and Nick go through here?" Brenda asked as soon as Kate stepped through the door.

"They just left," Kate agreed absently.

"I was going to say hello but they looked like they were in a hurry, I haven't seen much of Nick since he got back, and it seems like Gareth has been spending most of his free time in L.A.'' When Kate didn't answer, Brenda prompted her. "Hasn't he?"

"Hasn't who what?"

"Hasn't Gareth been spending a lot of time in L.A.?" Brenda's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Oh." Kate struggled to put off the lingering sense of disorientation and focus on the conversation. "Yes, he has been. He's very enthused about this program he's working on. Something that's aimed at helping kids stay out of gangs."

"He's always been good with kids," Brenda said. She leaned one hip against the counter. When Kate had sent the elderly Jim Miller home, she'd called Brenda and asked her to come in and run the register, the only task for which Brenda—in her own words— was even marginally qualified. At the moment, there were no customers and Nancy Morgan, the only other employee, was outside somewhere, so they were alone.

"Gareth likes children."

"He'll be a good father," Brenda said. At another time, Kate might have noted the wistfulness in her friend's voice but she was still distracted by whatever had—or hadn't—happened with Nick.

"I'm sure he will be."

Brenda's brows rose again. "You sound like you're talking about someone you hardly know. This is Gareth, the guy you're engaged to marry. Remember him?"

"Of course." Kate forced a smile and raised her left hand, wiggling her ring finger. "I'm not likely to forget, am I?"

"I wouldn't think so, but you sound a bit out of it." Brenda looked concerned. "Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine."

"I wonder if there's some kind of flu going around. Nick looked a little... off when he came through here."

"Did he?" Kate rubbed her fingers across the base of her thumb. Was it her imagination or was there a faint tingling there?

Brenda stretched one hand in front of her and frowned at her fingernails. "You know, I'm not too sure about this nail polish. The color looked good in the bottle but I think it makes my skin look like I'm in the last stages of yellow fever. Maybe I should—"

"Brenda, what happened to his wife?"

It was difficult to say who was most surprised by the question. The last thing Kate wanted to do was talk about—or think about—Nick Blackthorne, but she couldn't call back the words.

"Nick's wife?" Brenda stared at her in surprise.

Kate nodded. Now that she'd asked the question, she wanted to know the answer. "What happened to her? And to their child? Was there an accident?"

Brenda looked uneasy. "Haven't you asked Gareth about it?"

"The only time he mentioned it, he just said that Nick's wife and child were dead. It was obvious that the subject was painful so I didn't ask for details."

And heaven forgive her, she hadn't cared enough to ask, hadn't wanted to know anything that might spoil her picture-perfect image of the Blackthornes. Besides, Nick hadn't been anything but a name to her. His past—his loss—hadn't seemed significant.

"It's not exactly a secret," Brenda said, still looking uncomfortable. "It was in the papers at the time and, God knows, half the town was talking about it. I always thought that was one of the reasons Nick left—to get away from all the whispers and stares."

She paused, her teeth tugging at her lower lip as she debated with herself. Kate waited, and after a moment she sighed. "She killed herself and the baby."

"What?" Kate felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. She reached out and braced her hand on the counter, as if she needed actual, physical support to stay upright. "Nick's wife committed suicide? And she killed— How could she— How could anyone —" She stopped and stared at Brenda in shock. "I don't understand."

"I don't think anyone can really understand something like that," Brenda said, shaking her head.

"But... what happened?''

"I don't know exactly. I only met Lisa a few times." Brenda frowned thoughtfully. "She wasn't beautiful but there was a kind of sweetness in her expression that made you think she was prettier than she really was. She seemed...I don't know, fragile somehow. There was something about her that made you think she wasn't very strong." She shrugged. "I guess she really wasn't."

'There are a lot of people who aren't strong," Kate said, thinking of her father. "But that doesn't mean they...do something like that."

"True. I really only know what I read in the paper. I'd just married Larry and was in the throes of early marital bliss." Her mouth twisted ruefully. "I didn't keep in close touch with a lot of my friends so I don't know much. They called it postpartum psychosis. I guess after the baby was born, Lisa kind of... flipped out."

"How did she..." Kate let the question trail off, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

"She closed up the garage and turned on the car engine." Brenda's mouth tightened and she swallowed before continuing. "She had the baby with her. Nick...Nick found them."

"Oh, God." Kate turned away, her chest aching. She was sorry she'd asked. Maybe Brenda hadn't told her anything that hadn't been public knowledge at the time but she still felt as if she'd pried into Nick's past and pulled out a very private pain.

She didn't want to feel for him like this. It made him too human, too real...too sympathetic. She didn't want to care about what he'd gone through. She didn't want to care about him.

The sensation of being watched was familiar. Kate's shoulders slumped and she released her breath in a soft sigh. She knew what she'd see if she turned around. Laura and Leroy had become her shadows whenever she worked at Spider's Walk. Though she wouldn't have believed it possible when she first met the pair of them, Leroy had turned out to be friendlier than the little girl who was his constant companion.

As if on cue, the small voice came from behind her. "What are you doing?"

I'm not working for her, Kate reminded herself. She straightened her shoulders and turned to face her small inquisitor.

"Hello, Laura."

" 'Lo. What are you doing?" When it came to changes at Spider's Walk, Laura had a one-track mind.

"I'm planting a tree."

''How come?"

''Because a tree will look nice here. You like trees, don't you?"

"Yes." The admission was grudging, as if Laura hated to concede even that much. "There's already lots of trees around, though."

"But there isn't a tree here." Kate kept her smile in place with an effort. "I think one will look nice here. When it's grown up, it will shade the gazebo. Won't that be nice?"

Laura's narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug as she glanced at the young tree behind Kate. "I suppose it will be okay."

Kate's teeth ground together. "I'm glad I have your permission," she said sweetly and then was ashamed of herself for allowing her temper to override her common sense—getting sarcastic with a six-year-old, for heaven's sake! But Laura took the comment at face value.

"I don't mind if you put a tree there," she said graciously, and Kate's molars scraped together.

She's just a child.

"Don't you have something you need to do at your own house?"

"Nah." Laura threw one arm around Leroy's sturdy neck and looked as if she planned to stay put.

"It looks like it's going to rain soon," Kate said, glancing at the gray clouds that pressed down above them. "Maybe you left some toys out that need to be brought inside?"

"Nope."

"I really need to get this tree planted before it starts raining," Kate hinted.

"Okay." Laura's big blue eyes remained fixed on her.

With a sigh, Kate turned to the tree and tried to put her audience out of her mind. She shouldn't have tried to do this today. Not only had the weather report predicted rain, but Jim Miller's grandson, who worked part-time at the nursery and usually helped with the heavy work, had called in sick. A smart woman would have paid attention to the signs and postponed the job. But this was her first major addition to Spider's Walk and she'd been anxious to see it in place.

If the rain would just hold off a little while longer... As if in answer to her silent plea, a sudden breeze swirled around her, rustling the leaves on the little tree and bringing with it the cool smell of rain. Muttering under her breath, Kate dropped to her knees and leaned forward to take hold of the tree's trunk. As long as Laura insisted on watching her every move, maybe she could make herself useful, she thought.

"Does it look straight?"

"Nope."

Kate waited but Laura didn't add anything.

"Which way should I move it?"

"That way."

That way? Kate rested her forehead against her outstretched arm and wondered if she'd committed a crime in a former life for which she was now being punished.

"Do you know your left and right?" she asked in a voice that strained for patience.

"Yep."

"Do you think you could tell me whether the tree needs to be moved right or left?"

"Kinda left," Laura said thoughtfully. Kate started to shift the tree toward the gazebo only to stop when the child continued. "But a little right, too."

For just a moment, Kate considered beating her forehead on the ground in frustration but she refused to give her small tormentor the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"It can't go left and right," she pointed out. "It's got to be one or the other."

"Oh, I don't know," a new voice said. "If you move it left and then right and maybe back and forth a bit, you'll probably get it about right."

Startled, Kate let go of the tree and turned abruptly, her bottom hitting the ground with a jolt.

"Nick!" Laura's voice went from coolly disinterested to coyly feminine in a heartbeat. She tilted her head to look at him with blatant adoration.

"Hey, munchkin." He grinned at her. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." Laura batted her eyes at him. "Do you like my dress, Nick? It's brand-new."

He gave the pink cotton dress with its full skirt and lace-trimmed bodice careful consideration before answering. "I think it's the prettiest dress I've ever seen."

"I wore it just for you." The come-hither look she gave him would have put Mae West to shame. Kate was amused to see color tint his cheekbones.

This was the first time she'd seen him since Brenda told her about how he'd lost his family. Watching him with Laura, she found herself wondering if the little girl made him think of his son, who would have been about the same age if he were alive.

"You look very nice," he said. "I heard your mom calling you a minute ago."

Laura looked deeply put-upon. "I'm s'posed to go see Great-Aunt Edith," she said. Her sigh was worthy of the stage. "She pinches my cheek and calls me cutie pie."

Nick glanced at Kate, his eyes full of laughter, but his expression was suitably solemn when he looked at Laura. "She sounds nice."

"She is mostly." Laura sighed again. She looked at him from under her lashes. "But I'd rather stay here and talk to you."

Kate bit her lip to hold back a smile. Oh, to be six and too young to worry about hiding your feelings from the object of your adoration.

"I'm not going to leave town while you're gone," he assured the child. "Now, you'd better scoot home before your mom decides you've been eaten by an alligator."

"Okay, but there aren't any alligators here, you know," Laura told him as she turned reluctantly toward home. "They're all in the zoo."

"She always has to have the last word," Kate said as the little girl disappeared in the direction of her home.

"She is a trifle willful," Nick agreed.

Kate could have added suspicious, truculent and generally hard to get along with but decided there was no real point to it. A sudden gust of wind reminded her that she had more important things to do than dwell on the faults of her six-year-old nemesis.

"Would you mind helping me get this tree straight?" she asked him.

"What's wrong with kind of left but a little right?" he asked, looking surprised.

"Just a little more detail would be helpful," she said dryly. "It should only take a couple of minutes."

"I don't have any appointments with destiny that I know of. Take your time."

"Thanks." Kate turned and crawled under the tree. She was immediately conscious that he was seeing her from a less than flattering angle. She shoved the thought away. It didn't matter what angle Nick saw her from because she didn't care whether or not he found her attractive, she told herself firmly.

"It needs to come to the right and back a couple of inches," Nick said, and Kate focused gratefully on following his instructions. One or two more adjustments and he pronounced the tree to be standing perfectly straight.

"Thanks," Kate said breathlessly as she began pushing soil in around the root ball.

"You look like you could use some help," Nick said, and before she could protest that she was doing fine, he was on his knees on the other side of the tree, using his hands to push dirt into the hole.

"You don't have to do that. You'll get dirty."

"I wash. Trying to keep all the fun to yourself?" he asked, smiling at her.

Those dimples should be illegal, Kate thought despairingly. How was it possible to pack so much charm into a single smile?

"I didn't know you'd consider this fun," she said, forcing herself to ignore the tingle of awareness in the pit of her stomach.

"Playing in the dirt?" Nick's brows rose. "How often does your average adult get the chance to do that?"

"I think the dirt is about to become mud," Kate said, feeling the first light spattering of rain against her back.

It was a race between them and the storm, with the storm coming out the clear winner. They both pushed dirt into the planting hole and tamped it down as quickly as they could, but they couldn't beat the rain, which increased rapidly from a gentle sprinkle to a downpour.

When the final layer of soil had been pushed into place and tamped down, they both crawled out from under the little tree. The rain was coming down in sheets, but Kate paused long enough to take a satisfied look at the young tree.

"It looks at home, doesn't it?" she said, raising her voice to be heard over the roar of the storm.

"The only thing that would look at home out here is a goldfish," Nick shouted back.

He took hold of her elbow and rushed her toward the steps of the gazebo. Since the roof leaked in several places, it was only marginally dryer inside than out. Rain drummed against the roof, as if trying to beat its way through the old wood.

Breathless from the short run, Kate held her arms out from her sides. They were covered in dirt past the elbow. Her clothes were streaked with dirt and she could feel her hair pulling loose from its pins to fall in a soggy tangle down her back. When she glanced at Nick, she saw that he was just as dirty and wet. Their eyes met and they were both suddenly grinning.

"Still think this is fun?" she asked.

"It beats a poke in the eye with a sharp stick all to hell," he said.

Before she could respond, a soft groan had them both turning their heads. Leroy lay under an ancient three-legged table, completely dry and sound asleep. They looked from the dog—dry, clean and comfortable—to each other—soaked to the skin and covered in dirt. Kate bit her lip, but a moment later, she was giggling.

"Leroy's smarter than both of us," she said.

"It looks that way," Nick agreed, laughing. "He's certainly cleaner."

"That's not saying much. You look like you've been foiling in the dirt."

"You think you look any better? Even your face is dirty." Forgetting his less than pristine condition, he reached out to brush his thumb across her cheekbone and then grimaced as he managed to add to the dirt already on her face. "Oops."

"Oops?" Kate inquired politely. Without giving herself time to change her mind, she reached up and dragged her fingers down his cheek, leaving behind a smear of mud.

Nick's eyes widened in surprise. "I can't believe you did that."

"I can't, either," she admitted but spoiled her regretful look by giggling. "You look like you're wearing camouflage paint."

"You realize, of course, that this means war." He took a step toward her, his muddy hands raised in threat.

Kate backed up a step. "What about turning the other cheek?"

"If I turn my other cheek, you'll probably cover it with mud," he said, moving forward.

She retreated again. "I wouldn't do that. Honest." She widened her eyes and tried to look sincere.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire."

The childish taunt had her dissolving into helpless laughter. She eased back another step. "I never understood what the connection was between telling a lie and having flaming pants," she got out between giggles,

"I think it's symbolic." His tone became deeply pompous. '^Probably filled with deep, powerful meaning going back to our most primitive days on the savanna."

"Georgia?" she asked politely.

"Pearls before swine," he said, his sad tone at odds with the laughter in his eyes.

"Sorry." She backed another half step and gave a startled gasp when her ankle connected with something.

"Careful." Nick's hand shot out, catching her arm and pulling her forward. "This place is a death trap."

"It just needs a few repairs," she said.

"It would be easier to tear this place down and rebuild from the ground up." His thumb moved against her upper arm in an absentminded caress that made her skin tingle.

"But it wouldn't be the same," Kate said breathlessly. She should pull away, she thought. Not that his touch bothered her, because it didn't. Not at all.

"You're right, it wouldn't be the same," Nick said. "It wouldn't be a termite-ridden dump."

Had he moved closer or had she? Kate's vision was suddenly filled with the width of his chest. The damp fabric of his T-shirt clung to every muscle, delineating them like a drawing in an anatomy book. She swallowed.

"I should..."

"You have a smudge of dirt right here." He tilted her head and brushed his fingers over the curve of her cheek.

Kate looked at him helplessly. She knew the air was chill, but she was warmed by a heat that came from within. Standing here with the rain drumming on the roof and forming sheer curtains around the open sides of the gazebo, it seemed as if they were the only two people in the world. The sense of isolation was dangerously seductive.