The Way Home (25 page)

“It’s not your fault.”

“No?” He looked doubtful.

“Of course it’s not! I know you think you’re to blame somehow because my stepfather was upset about me seeing you, but you couldn’t know that. Besides, it could have been anything that set him off. There’s a … sickness in him,” she said more quietly. She clasped her hands on her elbows, hugging her arms close against her midriff. “Something dark and twisted inside. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Maybe.” He still sounded doubtful but Meg didn’t protest any further. Given time, he’d realize she was right.

“I want to thank you for what you did, lying to the sheriff like that, telling him we were … married.”

“I’d like to think of it as an exaggeration rather than an outright lie,” Ty said.

“It’s a considerable exaggeration.” Meg managed a half smile, trying not to show how much it hurt to be casually discussing something that meant so much to her.

“Maybe I should have called it a premature announcement.” His eyes were intent on her face as he spoke.

It took Meg a moment to sort out what he’d said, to understand the implication. When his meaning hit her, she sucked in a quick breath, feeling the blood drain from her head so quickly that she felt suddenly dizzy. Perhaps she swayed, because Ty was beside her in an instant, his hand firm on the back of her neck as he pressed her head down to her knees.

“Take deep, slow breaths,” he ordered.

With her forehead pressed to her knees, there wasn’t much else Meg could do. She must be worse off than she’d thought. She could almost have sworn that he’d just implied that they were getting married.

“I’m all right,” she mumbled into her skirt. When Ty released his hold on her neck, she raised her head slowly, relieved to find the dizziness gone. She didn’t look at him, afraid of what he might see in her eyes. Instead, she stared at the print of an airplane that hung on the wall opposite.

“Look, I know it’s a shock,” Ty said when the silence had gone beyond comfort. “But I’m not sure I expected the first girl I proposed to to be struck dumb by the idea.” It was a strained attempt at humor, but it told Meg, more than anything else could have, that she hadn’t imagined his words of a moment ago. >>

“Premature announcement?” she said hoarsely. “You mean you really plan on … on …” She couldn’t get the word out.

“On marrying you,” Ty finished calmly. “Yes, I do. If you’ll have me, that is.”

If she’d have him?
Was there any question? Wasn’t this the secret dream she’d hardly dared admit having? Hadn’t she spent the entire summer wishing she were older, smarter, more sophisticated, prettier? Anything at all that would make her more attractive to him? That would make him feel half as much for her as she felt for him? Of course she’d have him! She opened her mouth to tell him as much.

“Why do you want to marry me?” she heard herself ask.

“It’s the only possible solution,” he said.

“Solution?To what?” Solution? That hardly sounded like he was madly in love with her.

“To everything.”

“You mean to the problem of my stepfather?” she asked bluntly.

“What else are we going to do?” he asked, his dark eyes serious.

“You can’t marry me just to protect me from him.” Meg felt the tentative flicker of hope that he might love her die.

“It’s not just that.” He frowned as if he were having trouble finding the right words. “I … like you. And I want to take care of you. If you marry me, you can come to California with me. You’ll be far enough away from your stepfather to be safe there. It might be different if you were eighteen, if you could be on your own. But you’re not. And right or wrong, I feel responsible for what happened.”

“You don’t have to,” she protested, knowing it wouldn’t change how he felt. She played his words over in her mind. He liked her and wanted to take care of her. She could go to California with him and be safe. And when she turned eighteen in a few months? What then? An annulment? Was that what he had in mind?

She smoothed her fingers over the fabric of her borrowed skirt, wishing she knew what was right, wishing she didn’t feel so overwhelmed by everything that had happened. No matter what she said, Ty was going to carry a burden of guilt for her stepfather’s attack. If she agreed to marry him, that guilt would be eased. In a few months, they could have the marriage annulled and he could go on with his life, assured that he’d kept his promise to take care of her.

And in the weeks between now and your birthday in December?
a sly voice asked.
Is there a chance that he ‘d fall in love with you? That the marriage wouldn’t be annulled after all?

“Is it that difficult a decision, Meg?”

She turned to look at him, her head spinning with questions. Was she being selfish to even consider his proposal? Would he be relieved if she said no?

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“I do.” He brought his hand up to stroke his fingers across her cheek, his touch gentle. “Trust me, Meg. This is the best thing for you. For both of us. Say yes.”

Meg sighed, wishing she weren’t so tired, so overwhelmed by everything that had happened, wishing she didn’t want what he was offering so badly that she couldn’t trust her own judgment.

“Trust me,” he said again, looking deep into her eyes. “I do.”

“Then say yes. Say you’ll marry me.”

And with a soft sigh, she gave him the answer he seemed to want. “Yes. I’ll marry you, Ty.”

She pressed her face against the pleasantly scratchy wool of his sweater as he put his arms around her and pulled her close. Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of soap and coffee that clung to him. God help her for being too weak to say no, she thought tiredly. God help them both.

It was early afternoon the day after the scene at the McKendricks‘ house when Jack turned his mother’s Studebaker into the drive that led to Patsy Harper’s house. No, it was Patsy Baker now, he reminded himself. Patsy Baker, who had a husband. He didn’t want to forget that.

He turned off the engine and sat staring at the house for a moment, wanting nothing so much as to turn around and leave and yet wanting to see her again. Five years was a long time. Had she changed?

What difference did it make if she had? He was here only because Ty had asked him to come. He’d thought it would be nice if Meg had someone there for her wedding. And since Ty was busy trying to finagle his way into a wedding license, Jack had been detailed to fetch Meg’s sister. That’s all she was, he reminded himself as he pushed open the car door. Just Meg’s older sister.

The clouds had finally dispersed the night before, and pale sunshine bathed the damp countryside. The Baker home was on the edge of Herndale, some thirty miles from Regret. It was not a large house but it was pleasant and neatly kept. There were flower beds on either side of the door, dotted with bright mounds of chrysanthemums, which looked as if they were starting to recover from the heavy rains they’d endured.

Jack stepped up onto the porch but he didn’t ring the bell immediately. He was surprised and annoyed to find that he was nervous. In the seat of a plane, he could challenge heaven itself without so much as a twinge of nerves. Yet the thought of seeing Patsy again made his palms damp.

“Fool,” he muttered under his breath. Without allowing the memories to creep any closer, Jack rang the doorbell. He heard it buzz inside the house, then the sound of footsteps coming toward the door. And there was suddenly a knot in his stomach.

The door was pulled open and he found himself looking through the screen at the girl he’d once planned to marry. Only she wasn’t a girl anymore. She must be twenty-three now, a woman by any standards.

“Jack!” The soft exclamation told him that she hadn’t been expecting him. Ty must not have mentioned who would be picking her up. Jack found himself unreasonably pleased by her shocked surprise. Always before it had been Patsy who’d caught him off guard, who’d surprised him in some way. Right up until the last big surprise of finding out that she’d married someone else.

“Hello, Patsy. It’s been a long time.”

“Yes. Yes, it has.” She drew a quick breath and gave him a forced smile before reaching out to push open the screen door. “Won’t you come in?” she asked formally. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Thank you.”

Patsy shut the door behind him, and he could smell beeswax and soap. The inside of the house was as neat as the outside. He found it hard to imagine Patsy — his Patsy — polishing a table or mopping a floor. She’d always said that housework was pure drudgery and
she’d
never get caught in that trap. She was going to marry a man rich enough to hire a maid. Or maybe go to Hollywood and become a motion-picture star in the one of the new talkies. Of course, she’d also planned to marry him and said that she could be happy in a garret, as long as they were together. The cozy little house was far from a garret, but it was hardly the mansion she’d once dreamed of, he thought, looking around.

“How have you been?” The question brought Jack’s eyes back to Patsy’s face.

“Fine.You?”

“Oh, not bad.” She gave him a nervous smile, her eyes skittering away from his. She seemed to be searching for something else to say and coming up blank. Jack had no such problem.

“Is your husband home?”

“Eldin?” She looked at him, her blue eyes wide and startled.

“If that’s his name.” Jack was pleased to hear the cool indifference in his voice; even more pleased to see her flush and then pale, her eyes darting away again.

“No. He travels quite a bit. Selling farm equipment, you know.”

“No, actually, I didn’t know.”
And didn’t care,
his tone said.

She flushed again and Jack felt his conscience twinge. When had he become such a bastard? he wondered.
The day he found out she’d married another man
came the prompt response. But that was five years ago, water under a bridge that should have been long forgotten.

“I’ll just get my coat,” Patsy said.

She was gone less than a minute and was already shrugging into the garment when she reappeared. She was probably just as anxious to get him out of her home as he was to leave, he thought as he opened the door. Not that he blamed her. He hadn’t exactly been overwhelmingly friendly so far.

He opened her car door and offered his hand in automatic courtesy. She seemed to hesitate a moment before setting her fingers in his. She was wearing gloves, but the soft gray kid couldn’t mask the shock of awareness that jumped between them. Patsy’s breath caught and her eyes met his for an instant, telling him that she’d felt the same thing, and then she looked away, drawing her fingers from his as she settled onto the leather seat.

Jack shut the door and walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side. If it had been anyone but Ty who’d asked him or if the circumstances had been anything other than what they were, he would have gone back to California rather than see Patsy again. Five years wasn’t nearly long enough to forget.

“I saw Meg with Tyler at the fair a few weeks ago,” Patsy said as he backed onto the road. Obviously she’d decided that polite conversation was preferable to strained silence. “I had no idea they were planning on getting married, though.”

“It was a rather sudden decision,” Jack said, his tone as bland as hers.

“I had that impression, what with Ty calling me just yesterday and all.”

If she wondered why it was a sudden decision, she didn’t ask. She stared out the window, her hands lying quietly in her lap. That was another thing that had changed, Jack thought, glancing at her. The Patsy he’d known had rarely been still for more than a few minutes. She’d been bubbling over with energy, always looking for some new adventure.

There were things that hadn’t changed, though. Like the silky cap of pale-brown hair. She’d worn it the same way five years ago and he’d loved the way it molded her head, the feel of it sifting through his fingers. She’d gained a little weight, enough to soften the line of her jaw a little. But the mouth was the same, and it was all too easy to remember the way it had felt under his, warm and hungry.

His jaw tightening, he looked away, focusing his attention on the road. Five years, he reminded himself. He’d gotten over her a long time ago. It was absurd to think otherwise. She was simply the sister of the girl his best friend was going to marry. She meant nothing to him beyond that.

“Patsy!” Meg had been making a halfhearted effort to pin her hair up, but she let it tumble to her shoulders when she saw her sister’s reflection in the mirror. “What are you doing here?”

“Ty said you were getting married.” Her smile faded when Meg turned toward her. “My God, Meggy, what happened to your face?”

Meg brought her hand to touch the swelling around her eye. Funny, in the midst of everything else, she’d almost forgotten about her face. Seeing the shock in Patsy’s eyes, she found herself lying automatically.

“I ran into a door,” she said, forcing a smile. “Stupid of me, wasn’t it?”

“A door?”

“Yes. You know what an oaf I can be. It was so sweet of Ty to think to ask you,” she said, making an obvious change of subject. “Everything is happening so quickly that I hadn’t even thought about asking anyone to the wedding.”