IT OCCURRED TO MATT that Lisa wasn't very happy to see him. Usually so in control of herself, now any number of emotions flickered across her lovely face—chagrin, displeasure, suspicion.
“Matt,” she said. “What are you doing in Connecticut?”
For a second or two, he couldn't think of anything to say. He was too occupied just gazing at her. She wore some sort of silky dress that draped her body discreetly yet provocatively. At least, it looked provocative to Matt. He suspected Lisa could wear burlap, and that would still have an effect on him. Way too much of an effect.
“Matt,” she repeated. “What's going on?”
He sat down in one of the chairs around the conference table, leaning back as if he felt relaxed.
“I asked your partner not to tell you too much until things were settled,” he said. “I wanted to explain it myself.”
The misgiving on Lisa's face was clear. She pulled out a chair of her own and sank into it. “What did Dena mean when she said all our financial problems were solved?”
“I've made a contribution to your place here… Brennan House. That's all.”
“That's all,” she echoed. “Matt—”
“You're going to ask me why I didn't tell you about it beforehand. I knew you'd say no, that's why I didn't tell you. And now you're going to ask me who the hell I think I am, barging in here and sticking my nose where it doesn't belong.”
“Those weren't going to be my exact words,” she muttered. “But something to that effect.”
“Lisa…” He leaned forward, propping, his elbows on the table. He had to choose his next words very carefully. “After what you told me—the pain I caused you all those years ago—you have to let me do at least this much. It's inadequate, I know. It won't change the past. But…it's something.” He stopped, knowing that he wasn't getting this part right at all. He could tell just by the indignant expression, on Lisa's face.
“Dammit, Matt, I've worked so hard to be independent. Don't you understand that? Dena and I started this place up without help from anyone, not our families, not our friends. You can't just walk in here and—and—”
“The independence part does seem to be a point of pride with you,” he acknowledged. “But it doesn't change the fact that you need help. When you were in Hurricane Beach, Patrick said something about you hanging from a shoestring. Once I started talking things over with your partner, I realized that shoestring bit was an understatement. Apparently, your fund-raising efforts haven't been too successful lately. Maybe that's because you'll only accept donations from strangers… not friends.”
Lisa couldn't seem to sit still. She got up from her chair. “You and I aren't exactly friends, Matt. But that's not the point. I won't let you do this.”
“It's already done. Ask your partner.”
“She has no right—”
“Apparently, she's fifty percent of the operation,” he said. He could tell he wasn't winning any points with Lisa. “Lisa, these girls need you. and Brennan House. Don't let your pride cost everyone.” A familiar rose color flushed her cheeks, very attractive despite the anger it revealed.
“You've overstepped, Matt.”
“After what you told me, do you think I could just walk away?”
“I didn't tell you about the baby so you'd feel guilty. I don't want your money.”
He gave a slight smile, even though he didn't feel particularly jocular at the moment. “I'm not trying to take over your life, Lisa. Helping you is just something I need to do. And it doesn't seem so out of place, under the circumstances.”
Lisa gazed at him, her face set in determined lines. “Out of place—everything about our relationship is out of place. If you can even call it a relationship.”
Matt felt the pull of the past, and he hated what he had to say next. “Lisa, I hadn't told you this, but I lost my family. It happened almost exactly five years ago. It was a senseless tragedy, and in a lot of ways I feel responsible.” Matt tried to keep his tone even, without emotion. “I can't make amends to my parents, my little sister, Holly, or my aunt and cousin. I can't make amends to any of them. But I can make amends for hurting you all those years ago.”
“Matt, even if you feel guilty about the plane crash, about your family—”
“You already knew about it, then,” he said. “About the plane crash.”
She sank back down into her chair as if suddenly deflated. “Hurricane Beach is a small town. It was inevitable I'd hear about it sooner or later. I'm sorry, Matt. Terribly sorry.” She no longer sounded angry with him. But he preferred the anger—anything but her pity.
He felt the stillness inside him, willed it to remain. No past, no future, he reminded himself. “What I'm doing now—yes, it has something to do with my family. But I messed up with you, Lisa, and that's what I'm trying to rectify.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded hollow. Empty. And he wondered if he could rectify anything at all.
A CRISIS HAD DEVELOPED at Brennan House. Usually Lisa could take crises in stride—they were a frequent occurrence, what with any number of pregnant teenagers on the premises. But today, knowing that Matt was still in town, she didn't think she could tolerate even the smallest upset.
It had been two days since Matt had shown up in Danfield. Two days. Yet, after their unsatisfactory encounter in the conference room at Brennan House, she hadn't seen him or heard from him. But she knew he was still in town, and she could swear that she felt his unseen presence, felt him taking over her life, not just her heart. And she didn't know what on earth to do about it.
Unfortunately, Julie Douglas, the most recent resident of Brennan House, had barricaded herself in one of the upstairs bedrooms and refused to come out Lisa stood in front of the bedroom door.
“Julie,” she said. “I think we should talk. Whatever the problem is, hiding in there can't help.”
“No,” came a muffled voice. “Go away I”
Lisa turned the knob, but the door wouldn't budge. Because of situations like this one, the bedrooms were not permitted to have locks. It seemed Julie had gotten around that; apparently, she'd wedged a bureau or some other piece of furniture in front of the door. Lisa knew she could push her way in if necessary, but it wasn't yet time for that.
“Julie,” she repeated. “You need to tell me why you're so upset. Your mother's already left. It will only be you and me.”
Evidently, she'd said the right thing. After a few moments, she heard a scraping sound from the other side of the door. This time when she tried the knob, she was able to enter the room.
Julie flung herself down on one of the beds, the bulge of her stomach giving her a somewhat ungainly look. Her face was tear-streaked. Lisa sat beside her.
“Now, tell me what's wrong,” she said kindly but firmly. “I understand that your mother took you for your doctor's appointment. Did something happen?” Julie's mother lived in a town some distance away, but she'd shown up today right on time for Julie's medical appointment. Other parents might neglect their daughters; some didn't visit for months at a time. But evidently, Mrs. Douglas was going to be exactly the opposite. In the last few days she'd seemed far too involved in her daughter's life, constantly hovering, not allowing Julie to get used to her new surroundings. She always seemed to be telling Julie how she should think and feel—and telling her just how miserable life would be once the baby arrived: “Motherhood is no picnic… children are a trial…you made your bed, now you'll lie in it.” Mrs. Douglas had any number of dire mottoes to share with her young daughter.
“What happened at the doctor's?” Lisa asked. Julie covered her face with both hands and mumbled something unintelligible.
“Julie…”
The girl dropped both hands as if in defeat. “Twins,” she cried. “The doctor says I'm going to have twins. And Mom says she's not surprised because it's double the trouble and that's…that's only what I deserve!”
At first Lisa was speechless. Twins. Not just one baby, but two. That was something startling and special and downright wonderful.
“Wow,” Lisa managed to say at last, rather in-adequately. “All I can say is—congratulations, Julie!”
This time it seemed she'd said the wrong thing. Julie began sobbing, and Lisa placed an arm around her shoulders. “I know it's hard, I really do,” she murmured. “You must feel completely overwhelmed. On the one hand…twins. Something that feels like a miracle almost. On the other hand, you don't have any idea how you're possibly going to handle it. News like this is just too enormous.”
Julie slowly lifted her face, swiping some of the tears away. “I…I was excited for a minute, when the doctor told us,” she said uncertainly.
“Well, it would be pretty difficult not to get excited,” Lisa agreed.
“But I don't feel like me anymore.” Julie's voice wavered. “I'm just this… this big blob… with twins!” Her face crumpled and she started sobbing in earnest now.
Lisa held her, and patted her back, and murmured soothing words. It took quite some while to get Julie to stop crying, to drink a glass of milk sent up from the kitchen and to settle down for a much-needed nap. At last Julie's eyelids drifted downward, and she fell asleep. She looked very young and fragile as she lay there, one hand clutching her rounded stomach as if even now she could not forget the burden she carried. Having a child— yes, even two children—should be a time of joy. But, so far, there had been little joy for this girl, and far too much panic. How well Lisa herself knew the feeling.
She watched Julie for another moment, then tiptoed out of the room and closed the door noiselessly behind her. Two of the other girls waited in the hallway, wanting to know the latest At Brennan House, every resident's ups and downs were followed as avidly as any soap opera. The place was rife with emotional drama.
“Julie needs to rest. She'll be fine,” Lisa said with more reassurance than she felt. The girls went off down the hall, putting their heads together to exchange confidential whispers. One was six months pregnant, the other almost due. With babies on the way, their own lives were full of drama, and it was understandable that they would seek relief by focusing on someone else's turmoil for a time. No doubt it helped to know that they weren't the only ones struggling with overwhelming emotions.
Lisa was on her way down the stairs when her partner appeared.
“Lisa! You'll never guess what now!”
“I'm sure I won't,” Lisa remarked dryly as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “And where have you been? This place is a madhouse.”
“Don't worry. I'll take over—because you have an appointment with destiny.” Dena stuck a scrap of paper under Lisa's nose. “Here. Show up at this address. Pronto.”
Dena's new undercover tactics were really starting to get on Lisa's nerves. “Does this have something to do with Matt Connell?” she demanded.
“Can't say,” Dena answered a trifle smugly. “Although I'll admit one thing. That man is flatout gorgeous. I mean, I can't believe you never let on you knew a guy like that. He says the two of you are acquainted from a long way back. He wouldn't tell me anything else, unfortunately. But if I'd known him all this time, you can darn well bet that I'd—”
Lisa didn't wait to hear the rest. She snatched the piece of paper from Dena and escaped outside, anything so she wouldn't have to hear any more rhapsodizing about Matt.
A short while later she drove her car up to a house on Highland Drive. This was one of the newer sections of town, which was to say that the houses had been built in the twenties and thirties, rather than the colonial or Victorian eras. This particular house was an impressive affair of stone and half-timbering, chimneys rising on either side. It looked vaguely like a medieval manor home, an architectural style that had been popular in Danfield three-quarters of a century ago. But Lisa paid only cursory attention to the architecture. Instead, her gaze was riveted by the twoseater parked in front of the house. She recognized it as Matt's sports car.
It appeared then, that he'd driven all the way up here from Florida, a distance of more than a thousand miles. As long as he was going to take over her life, it would have been a lot easier if he'd flown—
But maybe, when your family had died in a plane crash, it wasn't all that easy to get into the air again.
Lisa felt a constriction inside, just thinking about what Matt had lost. After a long hesitation, she climbed out of her car and went up the brick walkway to the front door of the house. It was open, as if beckoning her to step inside. But she stood at the threshold.
“Matt—”
He appeared before her, and her heart did all the things she had commanded it not to do: speeding up, beating at a treacherous new tempo, making her feel breathless and off balance. She found it suddenly difficult to speak. “What's going on, Matt? This house—”
“I'll give you a tour,” he said. He seemed to be attempting an offhand manner, but he wasn't succeeding.
“Just tell me—”
“Humor me,” he said. “Come on, I want to show you around.”
With every possible misgiving, she stepped inside. The spacious rooms on either side of the entry way were bare of furniture, which only revealed the gleaming hardwood floors, the gracious lines of the walls and the deep-set windows.
“I can tell it's a very imposing place,” she began. But Matt had already taken her elbow and was escorting her up the sweeping staircase.
“Wait until you see what's up here,” he said. “Room after room. Whoever lived here before must have had one heck of a gigantic family. Or maybe a lot of overnight guests.”
It wasn't like Matt to be this talkative about anything. Lisa felt confused. His touch on her arm didn't help matters any, sending a swirl of warmth through her. A bit dazed now, she allowed Matt to lead her through one upstairs room after another. As far as she was concerned, they all blurred together. She knew only Matt's nearness—and the fact that she had absolutely no idea what he was up to this time.
“Okay, you've given me the tour,” she said. “And I'm convinced. It's a wonderful house. What are we doing here?”
They had reached a room that was exceptionally charming, with its own private fireplace and medallion-paned windows looking over the wide front lawn. Matt went to the far window and gazed out. His expression changed subtly, as if he had tightened his muscles against some approaching onslaught. After a long moment he spoke, his voice quiet.
“I lived in a house a lot like this when I was growing up in New Mexico. The details were different, but the feel was the same—privilege, wealth, opportunity. My dad was the one Connell who really made it big. He moved to New Mexico, went into investment banking, and he was good at it. Very successful.”
Lisa didn't say a word, almost afraid to move. Matt rarely, if ever, talked about his family. After a pause, he went on, his voice carefully lacking in emotion.
“All the wealth and privilege in the world won't guarantee that you'll get along with your children. That's the way I was with my dad, not getting along, rebelling, determined to be as unlike him as I could. Until the first day he took me up in an airplane—and I knew that at last we had something we could share. Something we both loved.” Matt turned toward Lisa, and she saw how tense his face had become.
“In spite of all the time we spent flying together, I never really did stop rebelling against my dad. Summers in Hurricane Beach…I guess they were a respite for both of us. And then I decided to go to law school because it was something different than he'd done. He was the original self-made man, so of course I had to have an education. Anything to set me apart from him.” Matt made a restless gesture, turning back to the window. “I went away to school, then settled in Denver. Hardly saw my family at all. Until finally they asked me to take that trip…flying again with my family. The idea didn't sound half-bad.”
Lisa felt a peculiar sense of dread, wanting to retreat before she heard the rest.
“I keep going over it,” Matt said, his voice taut. “How I could have made it different. I consider all the possibilities. If only I'd kept telling my dad we shouldn't fly in that storm. If only I hadn't given in. But you see, my dad—he was one of those charismatic types. Take charge. Always the center of attention. After a lifetime of bucking his authority, I was finally deferring to him…giving him what he wanted. But I shouldn't have backed down. If nothing else, I should've insisted on taking the controls.”
Lisa went toward him at last. “Don't think about it anymore,” she whispered. “It wasn't your fault. I know it wasn't.” She reached out her hand to him, but some warning in his eyes stayed her.
“I could have saved them,” he said heavily. “If I'd been flying that plane, I could have saved them all.”
She didn't know what to say. Anything she had to offer right now seemed trite, incapable of giving comfort. And so she didn't speak. She merely stood beside him.
It was a while later that Matt stirred, as if coming from a place deep inside himself. “Lisa, maybe it's not so bad…trying to make amends. For the way I let you down fifteen years ago. The way I let my family down.”
“Matt—”
“I closed the deal on this house only last night. Maybe you can guess why I bought it.”
A wild idea flew through her head. It couldn't be true, but then again…could Matt be moving to Danfield? Had he bought a house just so he could be near her?
Crazy. Impossible. A hopelessly extravagant gesture. One she never would have expected from him, but what else could it be?
Lisa's thoughts were in a kaleidoscope. She didn't know whether to be terribly upset or terribly ecstatic. “You shouldn't have done it,” she said, her voice wobbling in a most alarming fashion.
“I knew you'd say that. But it's a done deal, Lisa. The papers are already filed. And picture all the teenagers you can fit in here.”
She tried to take in what he was saying. “Teenagers?”
“From what I could see of Brennan House, it was pretty full up. Your partner kept talking about how nice it would be to have more room. So here's the idea. You keep that place, but you get this house going, too. It would be a sort of satellite operation. Two locations are better than one.” He sounded as if he was giving her a sales pitch.
“You bought this place as another Brennan House?”
“That's the idea.”
She swiveled away, finding it impossible to look at him now. She'd actually thought Matt had bought the house so he could move to Connecticut and be near her. She'd let that absurd notion enter her head. Now she felt humiliated, ashamed of her fantasy. And she could only pray that Matt hadn't seen the longing—and the hope—in her face.