Mr. Wrong (A Homespun Romance) (20 page)

Instead he stepped back and said, “Let me look at you.”  The gray eyes slid over her deliberately insultingly, “I’ve seen my share of cold blooded females but you take the cake.  I don’t know how I could have been so wrong but I was.  Well, Miss McArthur if it’s a stud you’re after you’ll have to look elsewhere.  I’m not available.”

The slam of the door as he left emphasized the finality of this parting. 

Brady was absolutely right.  Katie hadn’t realized how irrationally cold blooded she’d sounded till he’d looked at her with hatred in his eyes and repeated her words.

How could she have even though such a thing?  Those few moments in Brady’s arms had told her the truth.  She could never let another man touch her like that, without love.  No, she didn’t have that quite right.  She couldn’t let another man touch her like that, period.  She wanted Brady and Brady alone.  Why had she held on to her stupid plans for so long?  Nan Kettle had been right.  There was a time to dream and a time to accept reality and when it came to lost opportunities, she Katie McArthur had missed the boat, the steamer and the Queen Elizabeth.

Scenes with Brady came back to haunt her all through the night.  That first time in the store.  Had she known love then and not been able to recognize it?  She’d been blind.  His arms around her on the beach saying, `Don’t shut me out Katie’. But she had, at every opportunity.  On the boat where he had kept his word and proved what a good friend he could be.  But she’d had to take a day off to analyze unconditional love.  The look of adoration in his eyes when he’d seen Cody asleep at her breast.  She’d run away from it.  The way he’d cared for her when she’d been ill, told her, `I can’t take advantage of you now.’  And she’d planned this evening as cold bloodedly as Macbeth’s wife his murder. 

A million fragmented shards arose and pieced themselves together till she had a picture in front of her eyes of a man in a million whose love would have always cherished her, enriched her life forever.  A man any woman would be proud to love.  His love alone would provide her with all the security she ever needed.  He’d shown her in a million ways how he would care for her, no matter what, but she had fallen short on faith.  He’d held the key to her happiness, her security, her everything.

As dawn streaked the sky Katie bowed her head on her arms and wept for her lost love.

CHAPTER
9

Brady watched the sun come up over the ocean.

He was tired of it all.  Nothing made sense anymore.  He had to face up to the fact that the person he’d thought Katie was and the reality were two different people, and never the twain could merge into one. 

He had no one but himself to blame.  Right from the very beginning Katie had told him the kind of person she was, but he had refused to see it.  Chasing a dream, blinded by his own feelings, he’d been unable to grasp reality, accept her for what she was, but she had finally convinced him. 

It was time now to let go, seal that CHAPTER of his life as one of his worst failures, and get on with the rest of his life.

Nan Kettle looked at George over the top of her glasses, “I’m worried about Kate,” she said.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“She won’t tell me.  She’s putting on such a show of being cheerful, it depresses me.  It’s as if she’s there and yet not there, if you know what I mean?”

George Kettle hadn’t been married to his Nan for thirty five years without learning something about her. 

“I know,” he said quietly, hoping he could figure it out later.

“If anyone’s overdue for happiness it’s that girl,” Nan said sadly.

“She came to the store yesterday,”  Bernie Gallagher told her daughter.

“Did she say anything?” asked Karen.

“No.  Just looked around for him and then wandered around pretending to look at the stuff in the shop,” Bernie sighed deeply.

“Go on,” prompted Karen impatiently.

“She caught my eye and for a moment I thought she was going to ask for him but she just smiled.  I wonder what went wrong between them.  She looked like death warmed over,” her mother concluded.

“She’s always busy when I take Cody in or pick him up,” said Karen, “but yesterday I asked her a direct question and when I looked into those green eyes I wished I hadn’t.  She looked so lost, so..so...crushed.  Has Brady said anything to you or Dad?”

Her mother shook her head, “No and I don’t think he will either.  He’s the picture of misery himself, these days.”

Janet Soo looked at Brady across the table.  The man had barely touched the lunch he’d ordered.

“Will you do it Jan?  Will you take me with you?”

“Brady, it’s against all the rules.  I could lose my job if I get caught passing you off as a social worker.” 

“I won’t open my mouth or interfere in any way,” Brady said persuasively, “I’ll just be an onlooker.  You can pass me off as a new recruit or something.  I’ll write the Department of Social Services a nice check as well.”

She looked at his face and gave in.  Neither of them had to put it into words.  She owed Brady. 

“All right.  But remember if I lose my job you’re going to give me full pay till I find another.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Why on earth do you want to visit these homes anyway?  You aren’t writing a book entitled, `East L.A.: The True Story’ are you?” Janet demanded.

“No, Jan I’m not.  I’m just trying to get into someone else’s head.”

“Why?  To help a client?”  Janet wanted to know.

Brady shook his head, “Not this time.  This time it’s to help myself.”

“You promised to talk to him,” Karen hissed at her husband.

Brady’s head was visible to her over the back of the redwood rocker as he sat on the patio doing what he had done since the night of his dinner with Katie.  Nothing.  They had seen him twice in the last two weeks and both times he had looked like a man who’d lost the will to live.

“What do you want me to say?” Ben argued.  “Tell him to kiss and make up as if he’s Cody’s age?  Leave him alone, Karen.”

Brady had told them he wasn’t seeing Katie anymore.  He’d felt he owed it to them after what he’d put them through.

“Tell him she loves him,” said Karen, her glimmering eyes warning her husband tears weren’t far away, “Tell him to go back and talk to her, tell him if he loves her he won’t give up.”

“Why have I been picked as peacemaker?” muttered Ben.  “I’m not the right type for this role.  I think we should mind our own business, though I know the strain of doing that won’t be easy on you hon.”

“Ben.  Go!” commanded his wife.

“So many women in the world,” grumbled Ben kissing his wife, “and I had to pick the bossiest.”

Brady rubbed a hand over his face as if to dispel the memories the place had for him.  But deep down he knew he was here only to feel close to her again.

He could see her in that yellow outfit, remember his own desire to hold her, see her holding Cody to her breast, recall wanting her on his lap, picture the smile she had given him through her tears when he had thought of putting up signs for the stray dog, recapture the essence of her.

How could he have been so wrong?  He could have sworn........Brady passed his hand over his face again.

So many questions, so few answers.

Brady stared at his partner across the table.  For the last hour they had been discussing one of Pete’s clients.  The one whose husband was an abusive alcohol.

“Why do I get the feeling this is more than just professional interest?” asked his partner, "You’re finally paying attention to what I say.  Lately I’ve had to repeat everything twice before you’ve caught on.  Gina said she would have quit long ago if she didn’t like you so much, and you’ve missed everything any one lawyer could without being disbarred.  Now for the last week you’ve done everything but slept in the office and here you are soaking up this information like the blotter on my desk soaks up ink.  Do you have a personal interest in this lady?”

“Nothing like that,” said Brady, “just in her case.”

Pete looked at his friend and sighed.  Brady wasn’t going to tell him anything more.  He looked strained and in need of some of the famous Brown cheering up.

“I’m going out to dinner with a really cute blonde,” he said, “Want me to find out if she has a friend?  We were going to take in a few of the hot spots.”

Brady stared at him for so long Pete began to wonder if his friend was giving serious thought to joining a Tibetan monastery.

“It was just a thought,” he said defensively, “If you don’t like the idea a plain simple no would suffice.”

“No,” said Brady, “no thanks.  I have some work to catch up on.”

Lord, thought Pete, whoever she was, Brady looked like he hadn’t run away early enough.

Katie straightened up from shifting her cupboard.  The room looked nice rearranged like this.  She was glad now that she had decided to stay longer and change a few things.  There were only three children left awaiting their parents, playing quietly at a table supervised by an aide. 

Glancing over at the office she saw a man standing there talking to Mrs. Wright.  For an instant her heart missed a beat and then settled down.  This man was too tall to be Brady.

In the last fortnight she had seen him everywhere, yet nowhere.  Every blue car had been Brady returning to listen to her apology, to give her another chance.  Every man walking through the door was her love coming back to claim her.

Every night she’d tried herself and been found guilty.  Of holding on too long to memories that didn’t matter a cent now.  Of turning her back on love.  Of allowing the cool calculated thinking she had always prided herself on to smash a love more precious than the rarest object in the world into bits that could never be put back together again.

Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!

The words rang in her ears with the finality of prison bars and Kate grabbed her bag and hurried out of the room.

All week she had wanted Brady to come back to her.  He always had in the past.  But now, she knew if she wanted to ever see him again she would have to do something more positive than strolling around Bernie’s gifts and luggage, pretending she was there to buy something.

The office was empty.  Katie pulled out Cody’s file with shaking fingers.  Surely Brady’s home or cell phone number would be listed there.  She didn’t even know where he lived.  He had always been around and she had taken it for granted he had a place close by.  There were two numbers beside his name and she dialed the one beside work first.  If he was in the store she would go to him, ask him to listen to her one last time.  Any pride she might have was insignificant when put up against the odds of a lifetime of having Brady’s love.

One ring.  Two.  Three.  A click and a whirr.  She couldn’t be getting a recorded message could she?  All stores usually stayed open till eight on weekdays, in Jacaranda Meadows.

“You have reached the law firm of Brown and Gallagher in Irvine,”  a pleasant female voice informed her on the answering machine.  “Office hours are from ten to six.  Please leave your name and.....”

Katie hung up.  Checking the number in the file she dialed it again.  This time she hung up as soon as the recording started, leaning back in the soft chair to give her brain a chance to think. 

Law firm.  Brown and Gallagher.  Gallagher.  Where had she seen that name?  Closing her eyes she recollected a piece of paper.  A dry cleaning receipt that said, “I’ll be back…Brady.”  Excitement throbbing through her she had turned it over and seen it was for five shirts, made out to Brady Gallagher.  A part of her mind had registered the last name even while she’d thought to her he would always be plain Brady.

His father was retired, he didn’t have a brother and he hadn’t mentioned a cousin, so was the Gallagher in Brown and Gallagher?

She dialed directory information and asked for Mr. Brady Gallagher’s number in Irvine.  Were there by any chance two people with the same name there?  No, she was informed there were not.  Even Watson would have known right away the number that followed matched the one in Cody’s file exactly.

There was one more hope.  Opening the yellow pages she looked for the number she wanted.

“Bernie’s gifts,” said a voice determined to be cute.

“Can I talk to Mr. Gallagher, please?”

“Mr. Gallagher?”  A trill of laughter assaulted her ears,

"There’s no Mr. Gallagher here.  The owner is Mrs. Gallagher.  Mrs. Bernie Gallagher.  Her husband never comes into the store.”

“I was referring to Mr. Gallagher junior,” Kate said coldly.

“He’s a lawyer in Irvine.  Why would he be here?”