MacKenzie's Lady (17 page)

"I couldn't get home, so I wrote to her and sent her money. I had an aunt living in Oregon and I told Diane to go there and Aunt Maggie would take care of her until I could get home."

He paused, lost in thought, his mouth twisted in a bitter smile. Holly said nothing, afraid to break his unusually revealing mood by reminding him that she was there.

"It was almost ten months before I made it home. I never got another letter from Diane. Aunt Maggie wrote and said that Diane had gotten in touch and told her that she was going to stay with her family in California but she never answered any of the letters I sent there.

"I flew to L.A. as soon as I hit the States and I went to her parents' home. At first they refused to tell me anything, but finally her mother told me that Diane no longer lived with them and gave me her address. I knew they had never approved of me. Nobody mentioned a baby and I thought maybe they had set her up in an apartment somewhere so that none of their friends would know about the baby.

"I went to the address. It was a beautiful home in Palos Verdes. I can still remember the smell of the roses that lined the walk. I was almost frantic to see Diane and the baby. It seemed incredible to think that I had a child and I didn't even know whether it was a boy or a girl.

"I hadn't expected Diane to fall into my arms. I knew she would be upset that she'd gone through so much alone, but I thought we could work everything out. After all, we loved each other. What I wasn't expecting was the absolute horror on her face when she saw me. It wasn't the home of a relative or friend. It was her home, hers and her husband's. She had been married for almost two months."

He didn't hear Holly's gasp of horror. "He was out of town on business, which is probably why her parents felt it was safe to let me know where she was. It was apparently their idea of an amusing way to let me find out that she was married. Of course, they didn't know about the baby or they might have been more concerned about my reaction.

"She explained it all to me very carefully. Apparently she had decided that she didn't want to marry someone who didn't share her background, but the baby was a real complication. Her parents would never have forgiven her, so she took the money I sent her and went to stay with a cousin in New York. Abortions were still difficult to get, so she had the baby without telling anyone and then came home to L.A. and married the son of one of her father's partners." He stopped talking and after a while Holly dared to prod him softly. "What about the baby?"

His hands tightened into fists but his voice remained flat and unemotional. "It was a healthy baby boy. She never saw him before she gave him up for adoption. I have a son who's almost thirteen years old and I wouldn't even know him if I saw him on the street."

"Did you.. .did you try to find him, maybe fight the adoption?" She hesitated to ask the question, frightened of intruding on his private grief.

"And offer him what?" he asked bitterly. "I was on my way back to Asia and had no idea if I'd come back in a box next time. No family. It was one thing to ask Aunt Maggie to let Diane stay with her, but I couldn't ask an old lady to take care of an infant. I didn't have any money or any prospects of earning any. It seemed best for the boy just to leave things as they were. But then I sometimes wonder if I didn't con myself into thinking that was best for him because I didn't want the responsibility.

"Oh, hell, what a bloody mess!"

Tears flooded her eyes at the raw agony in that final sentence. What had she done? She could not have found a more potent weapon with which to hurt him.

There was really nothing left to be said, she realized dully. She got to her feet and looked down at his bowed head. She ached to comfort him, to hold him and make the pain go away, but she was the last person who could do that.

"I... I think I'll go to bed," she said vaguely, more to define her next step for herself than to inform him.

There was no reaction from Mac. With a small, helpless gesture of one hand, she turned and left the room, leaving him alone with his bitter memories.

❧

Holly was not surprised to wake alone the next morning. After the trauma of the night before, the real surprise would have been if he had slept with her.

She felt lethargic as she went about her morning routine and avoided looking in the mirror until she was dressed. The reflection there made her wish she had avoided it then. She looked every one of her twenty-eight years. In fact, she looked—and felt—a few years older. There were violet shadows under her eyes and her mouth had a pinched look that depressed her. She experimented with a few smiles and then decided that the grimaces she was producing looked even worse than the original expression.

As she walked down the hall that led from the bedrooms to the main living area, she became aware of the aroma of brewing coffee. She glanced at her watch. It was almost ten o'clock, and even on Sundays, Mac was usually gone by then. On Sundays, he played racquetball.

She stopped in the entrance to the dining room. Mac's huge frame was sprawled carelessly in the big oak rocker that stood in one corner of the room. That rocker had been a present from Ken, who said that all pregnant women liked to rock and all babies should have a rocker. The fact that the rocker was miles too big for Holly's small frame and that the motion made her seasick was irrelevant beside the meaning of the gesture. She treasured it for the friendship it represented.

Mac's eyes were closed, the lines of exhaustion etched in his face a mute testament to his lack of sleep. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn the night before, the jeans rumpled and the light cotton shirt open down the front, the fabric wrinkled and creased. He had removed his boots and one stockinged foot was draped carelessly over the arm of the rocker. A mug of coffee was clutched in one hand, held against the bare skin of his stomach as if he were cradling it to him for warmth. He looked so alone and vulnerable that she had to blink back tears as she looked at him.

Holly crossed the room quietly and peeked into the cup. It was half full of tepid liquid, and if he twitched in his sleep, it was going to spill all over him. She grasped the cup and eased it gently out of his hand, trying not to jar him. But even that slight movement was enough to penetrate his uneasy sleep, and his eyes opened as she pulled the cup away. He blinked at her sleepily for a moment as if trying to place where he was, and then he sat up straight, groaning as his twisted muscles fell back into place. She stepped back, uncertain of the next move. Should she just act as if last night had never happened?

While she was trying to make up her mind, he got to his feet and arched his back in a bone-popping stretch. "Hell of a stupid place to fall asleep," he muttered. "I think I've done permanent damage to my back.''

His eyes moved to where she stood, their expression unreadable beneath the fringe of his lashes. "We didn't really finish talking last night. I need to go take a shower. Why don't you have a cup of tea or something and we'll talk as soon as I get cleaned up." He reached out to touch her lightly on the cheek. "We'll work it out."

She watched him leave the room before turning to the sink to dump the cold coffee out of his cup, rinsing and drying it with automatic movements. That last sentence sounded positive.

When Mac came back into the room twenty minutes later, Holly was sitting at the table, a cup of tea in front of her and fresh coffee made for him. She flicked quick glances at him while he poured himself a cup of the rich dark liquid. He still looked tired but fresh jeans, a clean shirt and a shave had made a vast improvement. He hadn't bothered with shoes or socks, and he looked endearingly boyish with his feet bare and his dark hair still damp from the shower.

She dropped her gaze back to her cup as he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. It was left to Mac to break the uneasy silence.

"I did a lot of thinking last night after you went to bed." He took a quick swallow of coffee, giving himself a moment to organize his thoughts. "You were right. I did say that I was willing to do my best to make this marriage work, and I haven't done that." He shrugged. "Whatever happened between us before is in the past, and we've got to put it behind us and think about the future."

His eyes swept up with a suddenness that surprised her. She had no time to drop her gaze, and once his eyes caught hers, she could not look away.

"I do want us to have a future together. Maybe I've been punishing you for what happened with Diane without even realizing it. But that's over and done with and long past changing. I'd like to try starting over, if you're willing. This time without bitterness. I may not be the best husband material but I'm trainable."

He gave her a lopsided grin that tugged at her emotions, but she pushed aside the impulse to agree to anything he asked. This wasn't just her future they were discussing. It was her baby's future.

Her eyes dropped to her teacup again and she swirled the amber liquid around, noticing with absent attention the patterns formed by the bits of tea in the bottom of the cup. It was a pity she didn't read tea leaves, she thought. It would be nice to be able to put her faith in the pattern of the leaves and let them make her decision. But she didn't read tea leaves and there was no one who could make this choice for her.

The choice was a very simple one. She could stay with Mac and hope that he really could put aside the past and learn to love and trust her, or she could leave him and make a life for herself and her child apart from him.

Her mouth twisted in a rueful smile. So much for weighing all her options. There really was no choice. How could she leave him as long as there was a chance they could make it work? She looked across the table into his eyes and her decision was reinforced by his obvious anxiety. He really wanted her to stay. She smiled at him, her expression making it clear that she was more than willing to meet him halfway.

"I'd like for us to have a future together, too." She held her hand across the table and it was engulfed by his much larger palm. Her heart swelled on an upsurge of hope.

T
he phone rang just as she was throwing the last of the clothes in the dryer. Holly muttered irritably as she started the machine. Why was it that phones never rang when you were standing right next to them? They always waited until you were halfway across the house-before going off.

She hurried out of the utility porch and across the living room. Why was she hurrying? It was probably going to be someone calling to sell her newspapers or tickets to a charity ball, or someone who wanted donations left on the front porch. Of course, if she didn't hurry, it would probably be a call to tell her that she'd won a million dollars in the Reader's Digest sweepstakes. And one way or another, she always hated to miss a call because then she had to wonder who it had been.

She snatched the receiver up at the end of the fifth ring. "Hello?" She half expected to get a dial tone, but there was still someone on the line.

"Holly? This is your long-lost and forgotten brother."

"James!" Unconsciously she lowered her voice and glanced around as if expecting agents to pop out of the fireplace. But there was no one there. Mac wasn't even home, since Ken had needed his support.

"James, where are you?"

"I'm in Europe. Where did you think I was, Outer Mongolia? That would explain why I found out from Mom and Dad that you were married. You didn't know how to get a letter to me."

Holly flushed guiltily. "I'm sorry. Things have been sort of confused lately. I would have written soon."

"Like maybe when I became an uncle. Mom tells me you're about to produce a grandchild—any minute now, from the way she talks."

"Not until January, actually. Did they seem upset or anything?"

"You mean because you're producing a husband and an heir almost simultaneously? Not really. You know how easygoing Dad is, and Mom is too thrilled about the baby to care. What I'd like to know is why I wasn't among those who received notice of your nuptials."

"I did call about a week after we got married, but you weren't there." Holly sat down at the breakfast bar and twisted the phone cord nervously.

"Have you ever heard of leaving a message?" She twisted the cord harder, hearing the hurt underlying his light tone.

"It didn't seem like the kind of news one left in a message."

"How about calling back? Or has your new husband forbidden you to use the phone more than once a month?"

How could she explain that she hadn't called again because she didn't know what to say. "I've just been so busy, James. I didn't realize how much time had gone by. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner."

"I suppose absentmindedness is something to be expected from newlyweds. Mom and Dad didn't seem to know much about the new member of the family. I take it I haven't met him?"

"No. Mac hasn't met anyone in the family yet. Mom and Dad are coming out for Thanksgiving. I don't suppose there's any chance that you could make it home then?" Even as she said the words, she was praying he would say no. What if he returned to the States to meet her new husband and was arrested?

"Sorry. There's no way." Holly released her breath in a silent rush of relief.

"That's too bad." She managed to inject sincere regret into the words. "When do you think you'll be able to get home?" . "I'm not really sure. Probably not until spring."

"Not till after the baby's born, then."

"By the time I get to see him, he'll be past the red and wrinkled stage. I'm counting on it. That way I don't have to pretend to think that he looks terrific."

"I can see you're going to be a devoted uncle."

"You bet. Tell me all about Mac."

She swallowed hard. "What do you want to know?"

"What does he do for a living?"

She could feel the color draining from her face as she searched for a way to answer him. "He works for the government." Was that her voice? She sounded so normal.

James laughed. "Doesn't everyone? What does he do?"

Her fingers tightened around the receiver until her knuckles ached. This was James, her brother. She had to tell him the truth. But then, what could she say to Mac? "Oh, I don't know. Paperwork of some kind," she said vaguely.

"No matter what you do for the government, you end up doing paperwork," James said with disgust, He paused, and she could hear the change in his tone when he continued. "Listen, you remember what we talked about when you called from Michigan?"

"I remember." Holly was surprised to hear her own voice. Her throat felt as if it had closed tight.

"Some things have happened that I don't like. My phone was tapped, for one thing. Don't worry; it isn't anymore.

But I don't think it was tapped as part of a general precautionary measure."

"James, are you... are you in trouble?"

"Aren't I always in trouble?"

Her hand knotted around the receiver until the plastic creaked in protest. "I'm serious. Are you doing something you shouldn't?"

She had hoped—prayed—for a quick denial, and her heart seemed to stop as the pause between them lengthened.

"I think that would depend on how you looked at things," he finally answered. "I wanted to let you know that I may be dropping out of sight for a while."

"James! What are you involved in?"

"Don't get upset, Holly. I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't worry if you didn't hear from me for a while. I told the parents that I might be out of touch and let them think it was something to do with my job—which, in a way, I suppose it is." He gave an odd laugh.

"Jamey." In her distress she fell back on the old childhood name. "Please don't do anything stupid."

"Hey, when have I ever done stupid things? Listen, this call is going to cost me a fortune. Don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing. Tell your new husband 'welcome to the family' for me, and I'll be in touch as soon as I can. I love you, Half-pint."

"I love you, too." But the line was already dead.

She set the receiver back on the base very slowly, staring at it as if seeking answers to all her questions from it. She should have told James about Mac. But what about her loyalty to Mac? Who had first call on her loyalties, her brother or her husband?

Tears burned at the back of her eyes. Why did everything have to get so complicated? Her head fell onto her crossed arms and she let the tears fall. She was so tired of making choices and decisions. She didn't want to have to worry about what or who was right or wrong.

"Holly!" She was so lost in emotion that she hadn't heard the front door open. She didn't realize that she was no longer alone until Mac spoke her name. His hands came down on her shoulders and she stumbled off the stool and into his arms.

"What's the matter?" His arms closed around her automatically, holding her against his chest, letting her tears soak his shirt. "Are you hurt?" He bent his head over her, seeking some sign of injury. Finding none, he allowed some of the tension to ease out of his muscles.

He cradled her closer. "Holly? What's wrong?" She shook her head, mumbling incoherently into his shirt. He gave up trying to get an answer out of her and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the sofa and sitting down with her across his lap. He let her cry herself out and then handed her a fistful of tissues to mop up with.

Holly wiped her swollen eyes and blew her nose. "I'm sorry." Her eyes shifted around the room, looking anywhere but at the questioning blue of his gaze. "I don't know what got into me."

"Did something happen to upset you?" His long fingers brushed a tangled curl off her forehead.

"I...I..." Her eyes fell on the television. "I just watched a sad movie."

His brows rose slightly as he looked from her to the silent television set. "Must have been a doozy." If he wondered why she'd been crying in the dining room over a sad movie that she had watched in the living room, he didn't ask, allowing her that privacy. His thumb brushed across her cheek, wiping away the dampness left by her tears.

Holly closed her eyes, feeling miserably guilty. She hadn't told James about Mac and now she hadn't told Mac about the call. She was caught between them, unable to make a final decision, not being honest with either of them.

"I must look awful," she mumbled, trying to turn her face away.

"You look beautiful." His fingers caught her chin and turned her face back to his.

"What? With my eyes all swollen and a belly to match I'm sure I look devastating."

"You're gorgeous." And looking into his eyes, she could almost believe it. Her fingers closed around his wrist, holding his hand pressed to her face.

"Am I?" she asked wistfully. "You don't think I look like a watermelon?"

A slow smile lifted his dark mustache. "I think you're the prettiest watermelon I've ever seen." His lips closed over hers, swallowing her laughing protest.