The Baron (20 page)

“You look awful, Finnegan.”

“Thanks, Arch.”

“I mean it. And Mr. Nicholas Harrington the Third is conspicuous by his absence around here.”

Halley nodded.

“I actually miss the gentleman’s company.”

“Me too.”

“Then—?”

“We’re too mismatched, Archie. Oil and water. He thinks differently.”

Archie rubbed his rough beard and watched Halley with concern as she stood at the library’s back door. “Oil and water can make a spicy vinaigrette, my little one.”

“I don’t think so, Archie. I really don’t think so.” She forced a smile to her face. “Don’t worry, Archie, I’ll get over this.”

Archie looked at her out of eyes lined with the experience of life. “You do that, Finnegan, but make sure in the process that you let that Irish soul tell you a thing or two—and don’t make a damn mess out of things.”

Halley looked at him for a long moment, then turned and walked slowly into the library.

Halley was sure she’d feel better soon, or at least be able to begin picking up the pieces and glueing them back together. Finnegans were liked that, she told herself.

Each day when she woke up, she’d swear to make it a wonderful day, to transfer herself back, mind and soul, to the life that had been filled with simple joys and easy, satisfying hours, to when the most perplexing thing to mark her day was a misplaced library book or a board member vetoing a new program.

But she never made it through her second cup of morning tea before thoughts of Nick consumed her.

“Finnegan, this can’t go on any longer.” Rosie’s words flew through the cottage door and were followed the next second by her body. “It’s been two weeks now, and you look like hell.”

“That seems to be a universal opinion. Would you like a cup of tea?”

Rosie shook her head and sat down at the kitchen table. “Halley, somehow you have to work this out.”

“I know.” Her voice was barely audible. Sleepless
nights nourished little energy, she’d discovered quickly.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.” It was useless to say she didn’t; Rosie would know, anyway, no matter what she said. “It’s a curse, Rosie.”

“Love is a curse?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” She leaned her elbows on the table and cupped her head in her hands. “Oh, hell, Rosie, I don’t know. I can’t live without Nick. I’m going crazy, but I couldn’t marry him, Rosie. Not now.”

Rosie was silent.

“I don’t think I could. I think of loving him forever, and then I see Nell in my mind, this precious little girl, and Nick’s face changes. He becomes someone I don’t know, someone who could put his own daughter on a shelf—”

“Halley, that’s harsh—”

She shook her head and wiped away the buildup of tears that had clouded her eyes. “I know. See, Rosie? See what all this is doing to me? I’m not a harsh person, dammit!

“Maybe if you opened yourself a little more, Halley,” Rosie said very quietly.

“To what, Rosie? I’ve opened myself so wide, I feel like I’m split in two.”

“Open yourself to understanding what the hell it must have been like for Nick Harrington four years ago.”

“I try to do that. And I can get all the way up to spending the rest of my life with him. Then I get scared.”

Halley’s voice was so sad that Rosie’s eyes filled with tears. “I know, Finnegan. Sometimes life’s a big, scary bitch. Remember when we were kids and used to imagine the ghosts of the Indians out in the Thorne cemetery?”

Halley managed a small smile. “I remember. At first we were frightened witless.”

“And when we became friends with Small Owl and Blue Feathers and Whisper Cloud, all the fear left.”

Halley nodded, remembering the games they’d played with their ghostly friends, the food they left for them behind the bushes, and the endless stories she and Rosie wove about the Indian children. “If only this were that easy, Rosie,” she said, half to herself. “If only Nick Harrington were a ghost.…”

Nights were the hardest. Halley would curl up in her bed and try to block out thought. She’d gone from counting sheep, to graves in the cemetery, to books in the reference section of the library. Nothing helped.

“Oh, Nick, will you ever leave me in peace?” she cried into the damp pillow one moonless night. Then she remembered something. Slowly she crawled out of bed in the dark, and with her fingers she found the warm-ups she had borrowed from him that very first night together. She slipped out of her nightgown and pulled the sweatshirt over her head, then tugged on the large, baggy pants until her naked body was completely wrapped in Nick’s clothes. When she crawled back into bed, the lovely, musky smell of intimacy, of Nick floated around her until finally she drifted off to sleep, filled with dreams of Nick cradling her aching body.

The next Saturday’s errands went by the wayside. Even the Green Knight didn’t get its weekly checkup.

It was a beautiful fall day when Halley slipped behind the wheel of her car, determined to make the day worthwhile—somehow.

It hadn’t been planned, but she felt good when
she realized she was on the highway heading toward Abbie and Stan Melroses’—and to Nell.

In between thoughts of Nick, Nell had been very much on her mind. She would just stop to say hello, see how the horses were.

“Halley, you are a most welcome sight, my dear.” Abbie Melrose sat still on the couch, but her eyes told Halley everything. They knew the whole story.

“Have you seen Nick?” Halley asked softly.

“Every day, dear, for the past two weeks. More than we have seen of Nicky for one stretch since he was married to Anne.” Her clear eyes never left Halley’s face. She was telling her so much and wanted Halley to hear it.

“He’s come to see Nell.” Halley looked down and let the words sink in.

“Please sit here next to me, Halley. There are some things perhaps Nick hasn’t told you, but first I need to know one thing, although I think I know the answer. Do you love him?”

“Oh, Abbie.” Halley felt the tears build up behind her lids. “I love Nick more than I dreamed possible.”

“Good, dear. That’s what I wanted to hear. And he loves you so very much.” Abbie’s hands folded and unfolded in her lap, as if her fingers would help her pick out just the right words. She began slowly. “Halley, Nick and our daughter were very much in love.”

Halley nodded slowly.

“And they lived a blissful three years before Anne got pregnant. It was a wonderful time for Nick. He had never had anyone in his life before who really cared for him.” She stopped, as if she had said something unfair. “I don’t mean to say that the Harringtons were bad people; they weren’t. They were lovely. But they never wanted children. Nick was a mistake, and everyone knew that.”

Halley cringed. Nick was not a mistake. He was a wonderful, caring man—

“They would never have abandoned him to someone else, of course. They did all the right things, sent him to the right schools, hired the right help, but he was a stranger to them. He was always a smart child, and his looks, his intelligence, and his stubbornness got him through it all, but until he and Anne fell in love, he didn’t know what it meant to be loved for himself, or to be cherished.”

Halley leaned forward on the couch. The tears were still there just behind her lids, but she ignored them. She wanted to listen completely to what Abbie Melrose had to say.

“Would you like some tea?”

Halley shook her head.

“All right, then.” She patted Halley’s knee and continued slowly. “Anne’s death was devastating to Nick. He fell apart. We convinced him to go off for a while, on his own, where he could put himself back together, and we took Nell. I don’t think Nick even realized for a long time there
was
a Nell. He wasn’t himself, Halley—” Abbie’s thin brows drew together as she concentrated carefully on her words. “Halley, dear, it’s so difficult to explain to you, but even though Nick was a strong, virile young man, the strength of Anne’s love was gone, at least physically, and he had to learn how to function alone. It was very, very hard for him.”

“But Anne’s love was there—right there in Nell. How could he not see that and cherish it?”

Abbie nodded slowly. “Because, Halley, he didn’t know how. He’d lost his framework—Anne. He had to build another one. He didn’t trust himself with Nell; he felt so empty, he thought there was nothing left there to give her. And rather than do what his parents did and give her space in an empty house,
he left her with us. It wasn’t the perfect choice, of course. Stan and I are too old, and we had to resort to nannies to help with the child, but we have loved Nell, and we have prayed daily that her father would come back to her—”

Halley looked up as Abbie’s clear voice broke. There were tears streaming down her face.

“Oh, Abbie, I’m sorry. I know how hard this is for you too.”

Abbie shook her gray head and dabbed at her eyes. “No, wait, Halley, let me finish. Our prayers have been answered. We saw new life in Nick when he met you, and our hopes soared. When you broke things off, we were so frightened. We thought the same thing would happen all over again. But you’ve given Nick a very precious gift, Halley, and he has stubbornly refused to let go of it, thank God.”

Halley wiped her eyes and looked over at Abbie. “I don’t understand.”

“Nick is in terrible pain. He loves you so deeply. You’ve shown him he can love again. His days with you have given him tremendous joy, and he won’t give that up, nor what those days have taught him. He’s taking Nell, Halley.”

Halley’s tears fell freely now.

“We don’t know when. So many things have to be worked out. But Nicky has been here every night—looking awfully depressed, by the way—but he’s determined not to lose what you have given him. He’s opened his heart to Nell, and they are slowly getting to know each other.” Abbie blew her nose delicately on a lacy hanky. “Thank you, Halley.”

Halley wrapped her arms around Abbie’s frail shoulders. “Oh, Abbie, I’ve been so selfish.”

“No. You haven’t understood, that’s all. You had nothing—no experiences—to help you understand, just as Nicky had no experiences to help him understand
how to fit Nell into his life. Now he does—because of you, dear.”

“Hello, Grandma and Halley.” The soft, careful voice came from the doorway, and Halley and Abbie pulled apart to look at Nell, watching them with large, luminous eyes.

They wiped their eyes quickly.

“Oh, Nell, hello!” Halley’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the little girl, and for the moment she forgot her tiredness and pain.

Halley looked at Nell through the damp sheen caused by her tears. She looked different today. There was a pink blush to her cheeks and a soft light in her dark eyes that Halley hadn’t noticed before.

“May I give you a hug?” Halley asked.

Nell crossed the room quickly and was smiling when she wrapped her small arms around Halley’s waist.

“Nell, how is Daffodil doing?”

Nell’s eyes lit up as she told Halley how Daffodil had chewed the cuffs off the stable boy’s jeans.

Halley laughed and felt the stiffness in her face melting away beneath the magic of the little girl’s gentle laugh. It was like a wind chime, delicate and musical.

Halley looked over Nell’s shoulder at Abbie, whose eyes hadn’t left the two of them. “Abbie, do you suppose Nell and I might take a walk? It’s a gorgeous day out there.”

“Certainly you may. Nell would like that. Nanny usually takes her out in the afternoon while I’m resting. This will be a treat.”

Halley felt the excitement in the little girl’s quick step, and her heart swelled. Perhaps she was dreaming, but Nick’s presence in Nell’s life already seemed to be affecting the child. The thought of him brought the tears back. She’d been so unfair, so narrow-minded. Would he be able to forgive her?

Outside, a fall breeze tugged leaves gently off tree branches and danced them to the ground, “Where would you like to go, Nell?” She took her hand, and their fingers twined together.

“To see the ducks?” Nell looked up at her hopefully, and Halley suspected feeding the ducks was something she only did when she could fool Nanny into traipsing all the way out to the pond.

“Sure, let’s go, sweetie.”

Nell skipped alongside her, and Halley watched as the wind caught her black hair and whipped it softly against her cheeks.

Nick’s beautiful little girl. Nick, her Baron. She felt the swelling again; the choking, wonderful sensation that was slowly easing the pain in her heart.

“Look, Halley, flowers!” The little girl let go of Halley’s hand and flew across the field toward a small collection of brilliantly colored flowers.

“Purple wildflowers are my very favorite!” Halley said. She laughed as Nell plucked one off and made Halley bend over so she could stick it in her hair.

“Now one for you, princess,” she said, and wound a stem through Nell’s thick black hair.

“That’s what Daddy calls me,” she said matter-of-factly, and skipped on to a small wooded area.

The pond was just beyond the woods, a small marshy area that was home to a flock of wild geese and seven ducks that seemed to welcome the intruders with curious quacks.

“Oh”—Nell’s small face fell—“we forgot the bread.”

Halley rummaged around in her purse. “Aha! We’re in luck, Nell.” She pulled out two slightly squashed candy bars.

Nell squealed delightedly and quickly unwrapped one, squeezing the wrapper back into Halley’s hand. She carefully picked her way as close as she could get to the edge of the pond and threw out a piece of the candy.

Halley watched the laughter on Nell’s face and thought about how much joy the simple act was giving her. As Halley sank down into the tall grasses beside the pond, she thought of all the other simple joys of childhood and tried to picture Nell at a birthday party playing duck-duck-goose or learning to ride a bike. Suddenly the most important thing in the world to Halley was making sure she was there to see Nell’s face as she visited Santa Claus at Wanamaker’s at Christmastime.

Halley felt light-headed as she imagined Nell talking to the kindly Santa, her face bright with a smile as they’d ride the train around the Christmas displays and wave to the giant stuffed animals. Then they’d go to Haverford’s for hot chocolate with mounds of whipped cream on top and go ice skating in the park while the moon climbed high into the sky.