11

 

 

Ingrid looked at her with an expression of desperation as fresh tears streamed down her face. Running her hands through her long, dark hair, she closed her eyes briefly and then nodded.

“How long?” Suzanne breathed through her fingers over her mouth.

“Four months. I never would have pushed him if… if I wasn’t so scared.”

Suzanne got up from the chair and started pacing in front of the fireplace. “That means when he stopped having sex with me because I was pregnant, he was impregnating you! Dear God, is there no end to that man’s arrogance?” She paused for a moment, staring at the shrunken shell of a woman before her. “Oh, Ingrid, I feel sorry for you. I’m getting out of it, but you’re jumping in headfirst. You don’t have to marry a man because you’re pregnant. You could raise the child on your own. Think about what you’re doing!”

“I love him, Suzanne. I have since I was twenty-one years old.”

And then she knew, no matter what she said, it would fall upon deaf ears. It wasn’t her place to save Ingrid. She’d made a choice many years ago and was playing out the drama of her life.

But this was one soap opera she, herself, was exiting as quickly as possible.

“Now you know everything. I’ve talked Kevin into giving you eight million,” Ingrid said as she stood up and picked up her car keys from the coffee table. “I know nothing can ever repay you for what we’ve done, but I hope someday you find happiness.”

Suzanne couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. She felt as if she’d explode if she tried. Ingrid was pregnant with Kevin’s child! “So our children will be related. Great! I’ll never be out of this mess!” Tears drenched her face and burned her cheeks.

Ingrid walked toward the front door and Suzanne followed her, too stunned to add anything else. They had both used her for years. Everything, all her memories, felt like a lie.

Ingrid opened the door, but didn’t look back. “I know you may never forgive me, but I want you to know that you were the sister I never had. Thank you for all those years of being there for me. I didn’t deserve you.”

“You’re right, Ingrid. You didn’t,” she whispered as the door closed behind the woman she too had thought of as her sister.

Firmly wiping the wet streams from her face, Suzanne stared at the closed door for the longest time, absorbing the shock, feeling it move into her body and take hold. Her marriage was a lie. Her friendship with Ingrid was a lie. All of it, everything in the last fifteen years, was an illusion. She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped in fright.

“I couldn’t help but overhear some of it,” Charlie whispered, running his hand over her back in small circles of comfort. “Come sit down.”

She allowed him to steer her back into the family room. “It was all a lie, Charlie,” she muttered.

He put his arm around her shoulders and felt a slight tremble in her body. He’d tried not to listen, but when Suzanne had yelled, asking why Kevin had married her, he couldn’t help but hear the answer. From that point on he was vigilant, waiting to see if Suzanne would need him, for he was prepared to remove Ingrid from the house if necessary.

He sat in the corner of the sofa and pulled her down with him. Without thought, he took her into his arms and she instinctively curled her upper body into his as she buried her face in his chest and began to cry, deep body-wracking sobs of anguish. Holding her tightly with one arm, he began to stroke her hair with the other. “It’s all right, Suzie. Cry it out; get it out of you.”

“All of it was a lie,” she wailed in what sounded like a little girl’s hurt voice.

“I know,” he murmured, wondering what kind of people play with lives like that. A picture of Mitch Davies ran across his mind and he banished it quickly. There were people in the world who really didn’t care what they did to others. People without conscience. The war should have taught him that. His heart opened to Suzanne, that she would have to go through this kind of pain. Hadn’t she had enough?

He sat with her, holding her, stroking her, listening to her sorrow, and it was then he realized how natural it all felt. Perhaps it was because they were friends, but secretly he knew it was more than that. She just felt right in his arms. There was no other way of putting it. She belonged there. Immediately he realized how inappropriate his thoughts were and tried to banish the feeling, but it simply wouldn’t go away. She fit. A fleeting image of holding Grace flashed and he knew it hadn’t felt like this. In some distant part of his brain he now knew that marrying a woman he didn’t really love would have been just as damaging as what Kevin had done to Suzanne. Grace had loved him, like Suzanne had loved Kevin… maybe they both thought if they loved enough they could make it work. He now realized that Grace would have been disappointed with him. For as he held Suzanne even tighter and rested his chin on the top of her blond curls, he knew he had never felt like this before—not with any other woman in his life. Was it possible, he wondered, had he come to this time to find—the emotion rushing through his body was demanding a definition—love?

He loved Suzanne?

His body became rigid with the thought. He stilled his hand for just a moment as he tried to think about it. It was so strange, so totally beyond him, that he tried to rationalize it away. He had never known any other woman like Suzanne. He had never become friends, real friends, with a woman before. They had bonded because he had been thrown into this time, into her life, at a time when she needed him and he needed her. There were so many reasons to believe that what he was feeling wasn’t love. But how could he explain how he felt, holding her in his arms like this?

“Ingrid’s pregnant,” Suzanne muttered, sniffling as she hiccuped and wiped at her eyes.

He held the back of her head tighter and breathed in the floral scent of her hair. “I know. I heard it. I’m so sorry, Suzanne.”

“That’s why he wants to protect their names,” she said. “That’s all he cares about now. What a total shit he is! Getting Ingrid pregnant while I was pregnant! What kind of man does that?”

“I wish I could wipe away this pain for you, but I can’t. I know it’s hard for you right now, but the faster you get out of this situation the better.” It was all he could think to say.

“I’ll never be free of him!” she cried, as the tears resumed. “He’s Matty’s father and now my son will have a brother or sister and… and I’ll be tied to this ugliness for the rest of my life!”

“I promise you,” he whispered, running his cheek over the silky strands of her hair, “that one day you will be happy again. I don’t know how it happens, but everything always works out in the end. It always has, and it always will. Think back on your life,” he added. “At the very worst times, when you thought you couldn’t go on or get through it, you did. And it worked out somehow.”

“But this is different,” she protested. “My life has been a lie for the last fifteen years. How does that work out? How can I heal that wound, knowing the two people I trusted most in the world were going behind my back and deciding my life for me? How could I have misjudged them? What’s wrong with me?”

“Shh… there’s nothing wrong with you. I know what you’re feeling. I, too, trusted someone who turned out to be a scoundrel. I don’t think either of us is to blame. Were we fools? Maybe. But I’d rather be a fool than a scoundrel.”

She sniffled. “Scoundrel. That’s a good word for them.” She raised her head and patted his chest. “I’ve ruined your shirt.”

“Nonsense. It’s just tears and will wash away.” He grinned as she looked at him with red-rimmed, sorrowful eyes. “I’m getting very good at laundry, you know.”

In spite of everything, she smiled. “Yes, you are, Charlie. Again, I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here with me. You really were sent to me. I believe that with my whole heart… because I needed you now.”

“A man likes to be needed,” he whispered, gently pushing a curl off her damp forehead. “I guess doing laundry qualifies.”

She seemed to become very still as she raised her face and looked at him seriously. “I wasn’t talking about laundry, and you know it. I can’t even imagine being alone now to handle all this. You’ve saved my sanity, Charlie, and maybe even my life.”

“Then we’re even on that score, for you’ve done the same for me.”

There was a moment when they just stared deeply into each other’s eyes, going beyond the superficial and making a connection. His first inclination was to look away, but he held her gaze, knowing somehow that what was taking place was important.

“Tell me about your scoundrel, Charlie. Take my mind off this madness,” she whispered in an exhausted voice.

“My scoundrel?” he asked with a short laugh, grateful that the intense moment was over. “He isn’t quite so interesting as yours. Mine was just greedy. He wanted my life and tried to take it that afternoon you pulled me from the creek.”

“He’s the one who shot you?”

Nodding, he said, “I realized I could either jump off that bridge and take my chances, or be killed by Mitch.”

“That was his name? You mentioned him before.”

“Mitch Davies.” Even saying it now had a profound effect on him and he tried to relax the muscles in his body. “We left Ireland at the same time and met on the ship. We banded together and went west, working on ranches, and then coming back east to run bootleg whiskey up and down the eastern coast.”

She sniffled and then startled him by chuckling. “Bootleg whiskey? During Prohibition?”

He couldn’t stop the grin. “I guess I’m a bit of a scoundrel myself.”

“Well, obviously you know by now that Prohibition was repealed, so I wouldn’t classify you as a true scoundrel.”

“I was desperate to make money. I wanted to settle down.”

“Yes, you told me you were engaged to a woman.”

He nodded. “I’d seen the land I’d wanted shortly after coming to America. Funny that it’s right here, where I am now, but I can’t identify it anymore. Everything is so different. Even the railroad bridge is gone. New roads. New buildings. This was all farmland then. Every time we drive, I try to see something I can remember, but there are no landmarks. And even if I had the deed, it wouldn’t do me any good today.”

“I wonder whatever happened to it,” she murmured, putting her head back onto his chest and sighing with a shuddering exhaustion.

He stroked her shoulder and said, “It doesn’t matter anymore. That dream is gone. I don’t believe I’m going back, Suzanne. I’ve been thinking about it and, if it was going to happen, I think it would have by now. It’s been almost a month. I think I’m here to stay.”

She clutched the front of his shirt and whispered against his chest, “Would you resent me for saying I’m glad?”

He shook his head and smiled. “No, I wouldn’t. And honestly, I don’t even think I’d want to go back if the opportunity presented itself. I can’t imagine a life—” He almost said without her and Matty, and stopped himself just in time. “A life without all these modern conveniences. I’m starting to like it here.”

“Good,” she answered in a tired voice. “Then stay here. You know, you’re right, Charlie. Everything always does work out in the end somehow. It may take years, but it does, doesn’t it?”

“You’re going to be okay, Suzanne. Believe that,” he whispered, stroking her hair again. “Just be patient with yourself. You’ve been through a lot lately and I think you’re one terrific lady for how you’re handling it all.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, and sighed deeply.

He felt her breath against him and, within minutes, she was sleeping, yet he didn’t stop stroking her hair. He wanted to touch her, to feel her warm body next to his, to take it all in while he could. What a woman she was. Strong. Intelligent. Funny. Warm. Charming. Resilient. Through all of her pain she was still beautiful and, sometimes, when he watched her with Matty, she took his breath away. She stirred something within him that was new. It went beyond being protective of the gentler sex. Hell, he didn’t think of her as being weak at all. It was as though for the first time he felt he’d met his equal. He could trust her.

Deliberately, he paused his thoughts.

He should be scared.

He probably should make plans to leave her when she moved from this house. He should let her heal and live her own life with her son. But right now he knew he didn’t have the strength to walk away. It wasn’t that he was frightened of making his way in a strange world. He’d done it before and he knew he could do it again. He didn’t want to leave her and Matty. It didn’t matter to him that Matty was another man’s son. He’d been there for the lad’s birth. He’d diapered him. Rocked the child to sleep. Bathed him. He was even teaching the lad to smile just like him…

Maybe he was setting himself up for a big fall.

Someday Suzanne would want to get on with her life, maybe even remarry. Would his presence hold her back? She thought of him as a friend. That’s all. And he didn’t want her to come to him in order to fill a gaping wound left by her husband’s betrayal. There really was no way out of this except for him to leave. But he couldn’t do it right now. He’d make that decision after she found a place to move. She’d said she had three months to get out of the house. Three months. You could make a lot of memories in that time. Memories he’d take with him when he left her and Matty. He had time yet, before thinking about moving on.

That is, he thought, as he tenderly placed a kiss on the top of her head and pulled her closer to his body, if he could hold out that long.

 

“You heard me, Laura. Ingrid’s pregnant. Four months. No wonder they want this over as quickly as possible. Tell them I’ll take the eight million for the last fifteen years of lies, and the alimony and the child support. I want to get out of this house as quickly as possible and protect myself and my son.”

“I understand, Suzanne,” her lawyer answered over the phone. “My God, this just keeps getting more and more… I don’t even know what the word is anymore.”

“Sordid,” Suzanne supplied. “I’m telling you I would look at tabloid television and wonder what kind of people lived lives like that. Now I know. Me! Talk about learning never to judge!”

“Oh, Suzanne, you’re the victim in all this. You’re not sordid.”

“Please do not refer to me as a victim, Laura. I can’t stand the word. I can’t stand feeling sorry for myself. I find myself crying for the most ridiculous reasons and I can’t put it down to postpartum blues any longer. I just want this over as quickly as possible so I can move on with my life. I’ll pay whatever it takes to get this moving.”

“It is moving, Suzanne. Look how far we’ve come already. I can’t get a judge to move you up on the docket, but I can harass the hell out of Kevin’s lawyers to get the paperwork completed. Then I’ll see what I can do. I know a few clerks in family court.”

“Oh, there’s one thing more,” Suzanne said. “It’s the primary reason I called you.”

“What’s that?”

“I want full custody of Matty. I can’t imagine Kevin fighting me on it, since he’ll have another child in five months.”

“Okay, I’ll tell them. What if he does put up a fight?”

“He won’t. He doesn’t even know Matty. He’s only seen him once and only for about five minutes. Besides, he’s too much of a coward, especially now, when his lawyer lets him know that Ingrid told me the whole ugly story.”

“You know we could fight to put aside the prenup now. You could be entitled to half of all marital assets… might even be thirty million.”

“As they tie us up in court and it takes years to free myself from that man? No thanks. I don’t need that kind of money and I don’t want to fight for anything, except full custody of my son.”

“All right. I’ll get on the phone as soon as we hang up. You’ve opened a checking account in your name?”

“Yes, two days ago.”

“Give me the account number, so I can have Kevin’s lawyers wire the first transition payment into it. Start concentrating on building a new life, Suzanne. At least it will help take your mind off the rest of it for a while.”

“Yes, I think that’s just what I’ll do, Laura. Thanks.”

After giving Laura her new account number, she hung up the phone and looked around at the farmhouse. Once she had loved it. Now it seemed like a place of lies. Even the decorations were planned with a future. What kind of future could she possibly have had with a man who only married her to stay in the life of her friend? Had she just imagined that Kevin loved her? Was it merely affection? Did she provide the perfect front? A naive woman who had loved both of them unconditionally? Who tried not to see their faults, and excused them when they were too blatant to be ignored? Who honestly believed they could be trusted? It didn’t seem possible that something like this had happened to her, and yet it had. She’d admitted it to Charlie, how she felt like such a fool for being so easily deceived. And maybe that’s what this anger was all about. Being a fool for fifteen years was hard to swallow.

She found him in the backyard, fixing a bird feeder that was attached to a graceful limb of an apple tree. “Hey, Charlie,” she called out.

He turned around and smiled, something that she knew she would never tire of seeing—the way his green eyes lit up lately whenever he looked at her, the lines of laughter that surrounded them, the big grin, showing his perfect white teeth. She sighed as she walked closer. Put it out of your mind, she again reminded herself, even though she knew she would never forget being held in his arms the night Ingrid had dropped her bombshell. What comfort she had felt cradled against him. He’d thought she was sleeping, and she was—almost—yet she knew he’d kissed the top of her head and held her even closer. It was a display of sympathy for being wounded once again. The poor man was witness to her worst times and still he supported her through it all. What a good friend he was, and she wasn’t about to mess it up with romance.

Hell, romance was definitely out, no matter how great-looking he was, how kind, honorable, and half a dozen other things she had always been searching for in a mate. Even though she had settled for less in her marriage, romance had almost ruined her life and she wasn’t about to dive into it again any time soon, if ever. She was done with illusions and fantasies.

“Hey, Suz,” he called out as she approached. “Almost finished with this. Soon we’ll have the song of spring right outside the door.”

“No we won’t.”

He held the hammer in his hand and turned his head. “We won’t?”

“Forget fixing anything more here. We’ve got more important things to do,”

“We do?”

Nodding, she said, “We’ve got to start packing. We’re moving away from here as quickly as possible.”

She noticed he set his jaw, as though accepting bad news. “Hey, this is it, Charlie. We’re about to start a new adventure.”

His smile was forced as he nodded. “You’ll do fine, Suzanne. I know you will.”

She saw a sadness in his eyes now. Funny, she didn’t know he was so attached to the farm.