Home to Eden (30 page)

Kate was halfway down the stairs when the front door opened and Nick came in. He didn't see her immediately, and she was seized by an almost overpowering urge to turn and run upstairs before he saw her. It was ridiculous, of course. There was no reason to run from Nick. Besides, she'd never make it, she thought with a flash of bleak humor. As if in answer to her thought, Nick looked up and saw her.

"Kate!" His smile sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. She ignored it and continued down the stairs. "I didn't expect you home," he said, coming forward to greet her.

"We had a problem with a water pipe at the nursery. No permanent damage but it created a small swamp so we decided to close a couple hours early."

"Your customers' loss is my gain." He caught her hands and pulled her forward.

Kate responded to his kiss but drew back quickly. Being close to him made her want to lean on him. And she didn't want to lean on anyone—didn't need to lean on anyone. It was always a danger to depend on other people.

"I'm going to spend some time in the garden," she said, pulling away from him. "In this kind of heat, everything needs extra water. By the way, Harry said he was going to pick up Chinese for dinner tonight—his treat. I reminded him that not everyone has a cast-iron tongue. Hopefully, at least one or two dishes will come without hot peppers."

She was walking across the hallway as she spoke, headed for the kitchen and the back door. The gardens were the one uncomplicated thing in her life right now and she was anxious to escape into them.

"I went to see your father. He's leaving for Michigan tomorrow." Nick's tone was so casual that it took Kate a moment to realize what he'd said.

"You did what?" She'd almost reached the door but she stopped and turned to look at him, the peace of the gardens forgotten. "Why?"

"Because I could see what having him around— seeing him—was doing to you."

"I was handling it."

"No, you weren't. You were hiding from it."

Kate opened her mouth to snap out a denial and then closed it without speaking. Maybe he was right. And what difference did it make, anyway? What mattered was that her father was leaving. She took a moment to let the relief of that sweep over her.

"Did you...did you tell him to leave?" Kate wrapped her fingers around the edge of the door frame, needing a little extra support.

"No, I didn't." He met her eyes directly. "But I would have if I'd been sure it was what you needed."

She stiffened. "I don't know what you mean. I don't need anything from him."

"Or from me?" Nick asked, arching his brows questioningly.

Kate flushed because that was exactly what had gone through her mind. "I didn't say that."

"No, but that's what you meant."

She shrugged and looked away. There was something in his eyes that made her uneasy, something about his mood that disturbed her.

"Why is he leaving?" she asked, leery of letting silence build between them.

"I think he realized that there really isn't much here for him." Nick hesitated before continuing. "You know, for what it's worth, I think he loves you."

"As much as he's capable of loving anyone," she agreed without hesitation. She pushed her hands into her pockets and walked away from the doorway, her movements restless. "But he doesn't love me as much as he loves the road—or the bottle."

"People can't always help what they are," Nick said quietly.

"He never really tried to." Kate looked down, tracing the line between two boards with the toe of her battered tennis shoe. "I thought about what you said, about letting go of my anger." She shot him a quick sideways glance before returning her attention to the floor. "If it was just the constant moving, I could accept that. Lots of kids grow up on the move and they do okay. Even the drinking—I know it's an illness and that maybe he can't stop that without help. But I can't forgive him for—" Her throat tightened abruptly, cutting off the words.

"For giving away your brother and sister," Nick finished for her.

"Not for that," she agreed, her voice husky. "I can't just set that aside. Not just because it hurt me. I can't ever forget how frightened and confused they must have been. Especially Joshua. He'd just lost his mother and I was...I was all he had. And then suddenly I was gone, too, and he wouldn't have understood why or even have known that I cared." She stopped, struggling to get her voice under control. "I can't forgive him for that. Not ever."

"That's your choice," Nick said, surprising her. She'd expected him to argue, to urge her to forgive. Instead, he changed the subject abruptly. "What would you say if I told you I was thinking about moving back to New York? I could get a job with my old firm. The money's good and there's always something to do—plays, museums, the kind of thing we don't get much of around here. What would you think?"

It took every bit of Kate's self-control to keep her expression calm. Inside, she felt a chill that started in her chest and slowly crept outward until even her fingertips felt icy. She should have known this was coming. He'd never said he was staying in Eden, never made any promises.

"No comment?" he asked when she simply stared at him as if struck dumb.

"I...I wish you luck," she got out. She turned blindly toward the door but Nick reached out to catch her arm and stop her. She jerked away as if stung. It hurt to have him touch her. It hurt to think of what a fool she'd been—believing in promises he hadn't even made. She should have known.

"That's it?" he asked. "Goodbye, good luck, don't call me, I'll call you?"

"I don't know what you want," she said stiffly. "If you want me to go with you, the answer is no. I'm not leaving here." She set her hand against the slight swell of her stomach, as if to comfort the child she carried. Or maybe she was the one seeking comfort. "I'm not leaving," she repeated.

"I didn't say I was, either," Nick said softly. He waited until her head came up and her eyes met his. "All I did was ask what you'd say if I told you I was thinking about it, and you had me out the door in nothing flat. Not all men leave, Kate. Some of us stay put."

Too late, Kate saw the trap he'd set. And she'd walked right into it, she thought bitterly. To her, when he'd mentioned leaving, he'd been as good as gone. He'd known exactly how she would react, damn him.

"I don't really feel like playing Psych 101 with me as the patient and you as the analyst," she said coldly. "I've got better things to do with my time."

'Tough," Nick said flatly. He took hold of her arm again and led her into the living room. He nudged her gently in the direction of the sofa, but Kate ignored the hint. "You're not going anywhere until I've finished saying what I have to say."

"I don't want to hear it," she snapped, feeling her self-control start to shred.

"Tough, because you're going to listen anyway, even if I have to sit on you to keep you here."

"How mature," she sneered, concealing her shock. "Using superior physical strength to get your way."

"Whatever works," he said and didn't even have the grace to look guilty. "Are you going to listen?"

"I don't seem to have much choice." She crossed her arms over her chest and waited impatiently.

"I talked to Jack this morning," Nick said, as calmly as if they were having a pleasant chat. "He's been after me to pick up our partnership again and I've been putting him off because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I finally came to a decision."

"Bully for you," she muttered and then flushed with embarrassment. Good grief, she sounded like a bratty ten-year-old. Pretty soon, she'd be sticking out her tongue and saying nanny, nanny. What was wrong with her? She grabbed hold of the tattered shreds of her maturity and tried not to resent the fact that Nick was simply ignoring her less than gracious response.

"I told Jack I'd do it," he said. He slid his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "We still have to draw up all the legal documents, but as of this morning, the firm of Sinclair and Blackthorne is back in business."

"That's... great." This was what he'd dragged her in here to tell her?

"I'm staying, Kate." His mouth twisted with a touch of self-mockery. "I want to buy a house—for us." He looked around at the drop cloths, paint cans and partially stripped woodwork and his smile widened. "Hell, if Harry ever makes up his mind to sell this place, we could buy it. You like the gardens, and give me another ten or fifteen years and I might have the house in livable condition." He looked at her again and his smile faded, replaced by something so intense that Kate had to look away. "I'll put down roots so deep, it will take a major explosion to blast them loose. We don't even have to go on long vacations, if you don't want to."

Kate's heart was thudding against her breastbone as she realized what he was saying. She didn't want anyone making sacrifices on her behalf. She didn't want to feel that kind of obligation.

"I haven't asked you to make sacrifices for me," she said defensively.

"Who said anything about sacrifice?" Nick asked tartly. This wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for. "I'm talking about us building a home together, not immolating myself on the altar of duty. We're married, Kate. What did you think was going to happen with that? Did you think it was just going to go away?"

Kate shrugged weakly and looked away. "I haven't really thought about it," she muttered.

"Well, think about it now," he snapped. "And while you're thinking about it, think about this—^I love you."

The moment the words were out, Nick wished them unsaid. This sure as hell wasn't the way he'd envisioned telling her how he felt. He'd been picturing candlelight and wine and soft music, not paint cans and sawdust. "Dammit all to hell." He thrust his fingers through his hair and laughed roughly. "I didn't mean to say that. Not that way. I... Dammit, Kate, I've never known anyone who could throw me off stride the way you do."

Kate heard him speaking but the words barely registered. He loved her? She didn't know how to react to that. She hadn't thought about love—hadn't allowed herself to think about it. She didn't want to think about it now. Loving Nick wouldn't be like loving Gareth. That had been sweet and warm and...comfortable. Loving Nick wouldn't be any of those things.

"You can't love me."

"Is there a law against it?" She was too caught up in the turmoil of her emotions to recognize the vulnerability behind the half joking question.

"I don't want to love you." Too upset to be tactful, she blurted out the truth.

Nick jerked as if she'd slapped him. He'd told himself not to expect too much. After talking to her father, he thought he knew how she might react, but he hadn't been prepared for how much it would hurt.

"Should I take it that you do love me, like it or not?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice even.

"No." She shook her head, in answer to his question or denial of her own feelings. She started to turn away but he caught her arm and pulled her around to face him.

"This isn't something that's just going to go away, Kate. You know, it's usually considered a good thing to love the person you're married to."

"You don't understand." How could he, when she didn't understand it herself? "I can't love you. What about Gareth?"

Nick's fingers tightened around her arm for an instant, and he released her abruptly. "What about him?"

"I...I was going to marry him. I loved him."

Thin lines bracketed his mouth as he struggled for control. His voice was tight with suppressed emotion. "You weren't in love with Gareth. You were in love with the idea of him. There were no deep waters with him. You could marry him and build a life without ever having to risk yourself. You didn't have to worry about loving him so much it would tear you apart inside to lose him. He was safe."

He hadn't said anything she hadn't already known. She'd thought about her feelings for Gareth, worried over how she could have betrayed him so easily. She might not have put it in exactly the same words, but what Nick was saying was true—she hadn't loved Gareth, not the way you should love the man you're going to marry. What frightened her was that Nick had made her realize how different her feelings for him were. There was nothing safe about what she felt for him. Living with him—loving him—she'd be risking everything.

Kate thought of the way her mother had been willing to set aside everything—her own desires, her children's best interests—to keep her father happy.

From the time she was old enough to see what was happening, she'd told herself that she would never be like that, never let someone become so important to her that everything was sublimated to the need to please them,

Nick saw the fear in her eyes and felt his anger dissolve. This wasn't the way it should be, dammit. They shouldn't be fighting about this, of all things. He'd handled this all wrong, and now she was looking at him as if he'd just shattered her world.

"I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean to snarl at you." He drew a deep breath and forced a half smile. "This isn't exactly the way I envisioned this conversation going," he admitted ruefully. He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away.

"I need to think," she said. She brushed her hair from her face and looked around a little dazedly. "I have to think."