WHEN KATE ENTERED the bookstore Monday morning, Ruth turned from the register to greet her. “Good morning.” Quickly, she frowned. “You look tired, dear. Didn’t you sleep well?”
Smoothing her hands down her plain navy slacks and tugging at the matching sweater, Kate offered a slight smile. “Yes, of course I slept.”
The girl was a terrible liar. Even yesterday, she and Rachel had known something was bothering Katie. And Ruth was sure their long-lost nephew was responsible.
Shrugging out of her coat, Kate walked toward Ruth. Up close, her pretty hazel eyes were bloodshot, her face was pale and her freckles stood out in stark relief. “Did you sleep well?”
“Oh, no, Rachel and I were too excited to sleep. We talked all night.”
As if on cue, Rachel bustled into the store, her step light, her eyes sparkling. Like Ruth, she’d dressed in a smart Chanel suit, hers of green wool, Ruth’s dark rose. They had much to celebrate today.
“Good morning, Katie,” Rachel said. “My dear, are you all right?”
“Yes, of course.” Again, Kate struggled to smile. “Especially if you two are.”
“Oh, we’re wonderful.” As she reached Kate and Ruth, Rachel asked, “Shall I pour you some coffee?”
Kate looked around the store. “Is, um, is Jacob here?”
“No, he’s still asleep. And we’re glad.” Rachel set down the mugs of coffee she’d poured for them and reached out to squeeze Kate’s arm. “We need to talk to you before he gets up.”
Kate swallowed hard and sank onto an overstuffed chair.
Ruth and Rachel exchanged a quick look, then Ruth spoke. “We know it must be a shock to discover that Abraham owned the bookstore.” She hesitated. “We never told you.”
“You didn’t owe me an explanation like that, Ruth. The store wasn’t mine.” Her voice trembled at the admission. “It doesn’t matter who it belonged to.”
A quick flash of temper came and went in Rachel’s eyes. “In every way that mattered this store was yours, Katie. You should expect more in life.”
“It’s not good to expect too much,” Kate said, averting her gaze.
“In any case,” Ruth went on, “we didn’t tell you about the store and the farmhouse because Abraham asked us not to. We never knew why.”
“Truthfully,” Rachel added, “we just assumed he’d left it to you when he died.”
Kate didn’t comment, just sipped from her mug. Ruth was alarmed by her docility.
“And in a way, he did,” Rachel said gently. “If Jacob hadn’t returned to claim it, the store would have gone to you.”
Color suffused her cheeks. “Jay told you that?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t he?”
Sinking back into the chair, Kate shrugged. “Why did Abraham do that, do you think’?”
A motherly gentleness was evident Rachel’s face. “He loved you, dear.”
“I cared about him, too.”
“He loved you like a daughter, Katie.” Ruth’s tone was impassioned. “As do we. And now we’re worried about you financially, even more than we were before. We’re hoping, of course, that you’ll stay on at the store, but we don’t know Jacob’s plans, and we don’t want to pressure him when we’ve just gotten him back. But we thought we should discuss our concerns for you openly.”
Kate’s face flushed. And her shoulders stiffened. “I can take care of myself, Ruth. I always have.”
“I know you can. It’s just that we have so much. And we want you to know that we’ll always be there for you, to help you if—”
Abruptly, Kate stood. “I don’t want to discuss this. You have no obligation to help me.” Her gaze strayed out the front windows. “No one does. I’ll be fine.”
She’d overstepped her bounds again, Ruth realized a bit too late. She hadn’t meant to offend the girl. Katie had always had a mountain of pride that had been almost impossible to scale. Ruth admired her for it, but as a result, the sisters had had a devil of a time helping the McManns out over the years. Best to let the matter drop for the time being, though.
Rachel knew that, too. “All right dear, just so you know we’re here if you need us. Now, we have a favor to ask of you.”
Kate became visibly composed. She was more used to meeting others’ needs than vice versa. Damned if that didn’t annoy Ruth more than a poorly written book she’d paid good money for.
“Anything,” Kate said, giving them her first genuine smile of the day.
“Jacob won’t be starting work at the store until after Thanksgiving, which is time enough to get in his required month. We’re going to spend this week with him, getting reacquainted, showing him off around town.”
Kate said, “I can handle the store, though Friday may be a problem.” It was the biggest shopping day of the year. “I’ll see if Izzy, Simon and Joan can help out, too.”
“That’s not the favor we’re asking for.”
“What, then?”
Rachel sighed. “We have to tell Jacob about his half-brother, Aaron Mazerik.”
“Before anyone else in town lets it slip,” Ruth added.
“Yes, of course.”
“We’d like you to be there when we do.”
“Why?” Kate looked surprised. Ruth shook her head. For such a bright girl, she could be dense where men were concerned.
“It was obvious yesterday that he’s gotten close to you. Saving the girls. Staying out at your place all that time. You formed a bond.”
Kate paled, but averted her face. She only nodded.
“And this will be a shock to him.” Ruth frowned. “Unless…”
Cocking her head, Kate waited.
Ruth finished, “Oh, hells bells, we don’t know why Jacob left town years ago, but we know he had a falling-out with his father. It might be because he found out he had an illegitimate brother.”
“I’m sure it’s not that,” Rachel said. “But it doesn’t matter. This will be a blow to him, even if it’s just because the whole town knows. We think it would help if you were there for support, like you were yesterday.”
Bleak eyes stared at them. “I…” She seemed to struggle.
“Katie, is there something you’re not telling us?” Ruth asked.
“No, no.”
“Did Jacob do something to offend you?”
She waited a bit too long to answer. “Truthfully, I don’t like that he kept his identity from me.”
“Why did he do that?” Rachel asked. “He hasn’t said.”
“He’ll have to discuss that with you two. I’m sure once he settles in, he’ll tell you everything.”
Shrewdly, Rachel watched her. “Well, then, dear, will you help us out when we tell him about Aaron?”
Ruth noted the grim resignation on Kate’s face. She’d seen it often enough.
“Yes, of course. I’ll be there.”
The sisters rose, then walked over to Kate and hugged her. Ruth felt her tremble and held on extra tight. After they moved apart, Ruth smiled. “We’re fixing a special lunch at noon. We’ll see you then.”
She bustled out ahead of Rachel, but Kate’s bleak expression stayed in her mind. Ruth would just have to get to the bottom of this.
o0o
“STEELE BOOKS. Kate McMann speaking.”
“Hello, Katie.” Ruth’s voice bubbled with joy. “Lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes. Do you think you could run up and fetch Jacob, then come over?”
She counted to ten before she answered. “I’ll just call him to meet us there.”
“The apartment phone’s not hooked up yet.”
“He has a cell phone.”
A pause. “Do you know the number?”
“Yes.” Kate glanced around the store, noting to herself that the carpet needed vacuuming. “Don’t worry. I’ll call him.”
“See you in a bit, then. The meal’s all ready.”
No doubt a fatted calf, Kate thought unkindly as she ended the call. Staring at nothing, she bit her lip and told herself to shape up. Ruth and Rachel knew her well. They already sensed something was wrong. And she’d be damned if she’d be the one to spoil this reunion for them.
Pulling out her directory, she found Jay’s cell-phone number and punched it in. Busy. Damn. She glanced at the clock. With a heavy heart and even heavier steps—she hadn’t slept, of course—Kate headed to the back of the store. As she passed the office, she stopped. “I’m going to lunch, Simon. Are you sure you can handle this alone?”
From the computer, where he was updating their rare-book listing on the American Book Exchange, Simon grinned mischievously at her. “Only if Mrs. Keller stops flirting with me. My Annie said the woman’s got the hots for me.”
Kate smiled back. The levity felt good. Life would work out, because Lynn was right. Kate had the girls, the Steele sisters and her friends. No one, not even the fair-haired boy of Riverbend, could take that away from her.
There were two staircases to the apartment above. Because the temperature had dropped, Kate climbed the inside one. Even here she’d paid attention to details. She’d painted the walls and the high ceiling—which had been a pain to reach—and put up posters of authors. At the top of the stairs, she smoothed the edge of Jack Kerouac’s and thought of Ruth. Taking in a deep breath, she faced the door and knocked.
“It’s open.”
At his invitation, Kate turned the knob and pushed the heavy wood-paneled door. This entrance led into the living room. All the furniture in the large space had belonged to the Steeles’ grandparents, which Rachel had saved. An old but sturdy tapestry couch, two accent chairs and several tables graced the hardwood floors, covered partly by a braided rug. Kate had refinished some of the pieces herself. She loved the polished oak of the archways and baseboards, and had matched the stain on the end tables and the desk to it.
He was at that very desk on the phone. Over his shoulder, he called out, “Let me just finish this up, Aunt Ruth, and I’ll be right with you.” Then into the phone he said, “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Against her will, Kate studied him; covered in a bulky brown sweater, the broad expanse of his back, which she knew had a few freckles, was muscular and sturdy. She remembered the feel of those shoulders from when he’d playfully hoisted her over them in a fanciful moment late Saturday night. The memories hurt her heart.
“I said no, Mallory. I’m not going to discuss this further. I have to go. Goodbye.” And he closed the cell phone.
Surprised at his curt tone, Kate cleared her throat. “It’s not Ruth.”
He spun around in the ornate wooden chair. “Kate.” He breathed the word reverently. Warily. And he had a strange look on his face. “I was expecting Ruth.”
“She asked me to fetch you. Lunch—” Kate broke off when she noticed what his body had blocked. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as if she was walking at night and had sensed something was about to strike. Her eyes were riveted on the sleek, expensive laptop in front of him.
All I need is a cell phone and a computer.
You can use mine.
“You have a computer.” The inane remark was about all she could manage.
He glanced at it, then back to her. “Yes.”
“You’ve had it all the time.”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms across her chest to ward off the blows she knew were coming. “Let me guess,” she said, raising her eyes to the ceiling where she’d put up a fan for the summer months. “You used mine to spy on me.”
“I...I didn’t know you then, Kate. I had to find out what was going on with Steele Books.”
“So you hacked into my store accounts.”
He could have corrected her—they were his accounts—but he didn’t. That small courtesy prompted her to admit he had the right. “Oh, hell. They’re really yours, anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” She tossed her head. “After all, that’s what this is about, isn’t it? Money?”
“It was in the beginning.”
She let that odd remark pass, because the mention of money tapped into a memory. Billy should be paying child support...I know how you scrim.
Her stomach roiled as she pieced it together, a macabre puzzle she didn’t want to assemble. “My personal accounts are on my computer, too. Tell me you didn’t break into those.”
He stared at her, his look hard. His face revealed the truth.
“Oh, no, please. You spied on me personally?”
Gravely, he nodded.
She threw up her hands. “Next, you’re going to tell me you searched the house.” He didn’t say a word. “Oh, God. You did.”
“I’m sorry.”
She blinked several times, then turned away from him. After a long moment, she said, “’Sorry’ doesn’t cut it in my household, either.” She reached for the door.
“Wait.”
She did, if only because she was afraid she might trip and fall down the stairs. And she didn’t want to end up like the crippled Maddie in Ethan Frome with nothing but a broken body because of some man.
“I tried to tell you this on Sunday. I didn’t know you when I began it all. After the first week, I knew you were on the up-and-up and I stopped—”
“Spying? You stopped spying on me after seven days? Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“It was before I came to care for you. And the girls.”
She whirled around. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself, Jacob.” She raised her chin. “But don your good-boy mask for a while, will you? For some reason Ruth and Rachel love you and think you’re a good man.”
“I told you I wasn’t.”
“My mistake for not listening. People have always warned me about being a Pollyanna. I guess they were right.” She glanced at her watch. “We need to leave. I don’t want Ruth and Rachel to have to wait for you.” She regarded him coldly. “I think fifteen years was enough.”
o0o
HE WAS TRYING hard to keep it all contained, but the feelings kept surfacing, like a geyser, buried too long. As he seated Ruth, then Rachel, he was overcome by a swell of warmth.
Always pull out a female companion’s chair before you seat yourself dear, Rachel had told him.
You’ll have them swooning at your feet, boy, Ruth had added with a wink.
He stole a quick glance at Kate, rocked by the knowledge that nothing he could do would ever get her to swoon at his feet. She sat stiffly, as he took his place beside her, across from his aunts. Casually, she inched away, but still his shoulder brushed hers. Her flowery scent assaulted him, piercing the armor he’d been trying to erect since yesterday.
He was losing the battle to stay distant, big time, with her and with his aunts. “This looks wonderful,” he told them as he eyed the cheesy quiche, hot rolls and salad.
Ruth reached over and squeezed his arm. “Nothing but the best for our boy.”
“I don’t deserve this,” he blurted, not intending to say it, but somehow the confession felt right, necessary.
“Of course you do, dear.” This from Rachel. “Now bow your head and let’s thank God for your return.”
He tried to block out the blessing. Kate’s hands were clasped so tightly the knuckles had become white. And her head was bent, but she was probably cursing him, not thanking God he’d come back.
“...and mostly, thank you for returning Jacob to us.”
The meal progressed with remarkable ease, right into coffee and dessert. Though Jay was aware of the tension in every familiar curve of Kate’s body, the aunts seemed oblivious to it. They chatted on about the weather and the store. It was only when he accidentally bumped Kate’s leg, and they heard the small intake of breath, quickly disguised as a cough, that they noticed something was amiss.
“Oh, dear, Kate. I hope you’re not getting a cold.”
She cleared her throat. “No, Rachel, don’t worry. I’m fine.”
“We wouldn’t want you ill for Thanksgiving.” Ruth smiled with such innocent delight Jay’s heart tripped in his chest. “Just think, Jacob will be joining us at the farmhouse this year. Like old times.”
Kate’s fork clattered to her plate.
“Is there a problem with that, Katie?”
“No, of course not,” she lied.
“Who else is coming?” Jay asked her.
“A few people you know.” For some reason, her eyes darted to both Ruth and Rachel. “Lily and Aaron said yes, by the way.”
Jay cocked his head. “Lily and Aaron?”
It was like the beginning of a funeral, where everyone falls silent for the service. Slowly and deliberately, Ruth and Rachel set down their forks. They glanced at Kate, who smiled in what looked like encouragement.
Rachel began. “Jacob, we have something to tell you. Something you need to hear from us before you go out about town.”
He braced his elbows on the table, aware of an ominous feeling sweeping through the dining room. “What is it?” He frowned. “Is it about Lily Bennett? And Aaron who?”
Ruth’s eyes were sad. “Lily Bennett married Aaron Mazerik last month.”
“Aaron Mazerik? Maz?” Jay had an image of a lanky, dark-haired boy with bleak eyes. Coach Drummer had asked Jay to befriend him, and back then, Jay would have cut off his right hand for his basketball coach. But something about Aaron had always drawn him, anyway.
“Yes.” Rachel smiled like a proud mother.
“You have contact with him?” Jay remembered that Aaron had been the closest thing to a juvenile delinquent that Riverbend had had. He’d both intrigued and frightened most of the other kids.
“Yes. He moved back to Riverbend a few years ago to take care of his mother after she had a stroke. Wally Drummer talked him into staying. He’s a guidance counselor at the school, and he coaches the basketball team now.”
Ruth jumped in. “We’ve been seeing him regularly since your father’s bequests were revealed.”
He recalled Harrison’s words. Your father left several unusual bequests. To people you wouldn’t expect.
“Aaron got one of the bequests?”
“A sizable one.”
“Why?”
Ruth hesitated. Rachel’s hand went to her sister’s arm. “Jacob,” Rachel said, “Aaron Mazerik is your father’s son.”
It took him a minute. Your father’s son. That meant...that made him...Jay couldn’t sort it out. “I don’t understand. Aaron’s father was…” Then he remembered. Aaron’s mother had never married, and sometimes, the kids had speculated nastily about who his father was. But Jay had never heard, never considered...Oh, God, his father had had an illegitimate son. His father had never claimed the boy, dooming Aaron to a lifetime of taunting and cruel remarks. Children, teenagers and small-town minds could be brutal.
Jay tried to harden his heart. This just took the cake. It was so typical, so keeping in character of the man who had raised him.
“We take it you didn’t know,” Ruth said.
He finally found his voice. “Know? Of course not. Why would you think that?”
Ruth’s eyes were bleak. “We thought maybe that was why you left.”
“No, Aunt Ruth. It’s not why I left.” But it fit well into the picture that had been painted for him that one dreary Christmas Eve when his life had fallen apart.
Jay put his hands over his face and blocked out the sight of the women before him. He remained that way for a long time, struggling for control. Then, like yesterday, he felt a hand squeeze his arm. When he looked over at Kate, there was a compassion he didn’t deserve on her face. “This must be such a blow,” she said softly.
He cocked his head. “I...I have a brother. At least a half brother.” He shook his head. “And I never knew.”
“Aaron’s told us how nice you always were to him,” Rachel said.
Jay remembered things. Wanna shoot baskets after practice, Aaron? I’ll help you with your layups...Come on, it’s cold out. I’ll drive you home. Home had been a seedy little apartment on Third Street that made the farmhouse look like a mansion.
Jay had played basketball with his brother. He’d driven his brother home and hadn’t even known it. The notion sickened him. But anger was easier, so he let it erupt.
“I hope Abraham’s burning in hell for this,” Jay spit out. “He had no right to do that to a young boy. To his son.”
“Jacob, your father was—”
Jay shoved back his chair and stood. “My father was a monster, Ruth.” Wildly, he looked around the room, feeling like a tiger thrown into a cage after a good romp in a field. All the old resentment and rage returned. “Listen, I’m sorry but I have to go out for a while. I need to think about this. I need to deal with it.” His gaze settled on Ruth and Rachel. “Is it all right? I don’t want to leave if you’re upset, but I need to think.”
“Of course it’s all right. Just be careful if you drive.” Rachel’s voice was hoarse.
Ruth asked quietly, “You’ll come back this time, though, won’t you, Jacob?”
His heart, already maimed, broke into fragments at their wariness. “Of course I’ll come back.” He went to them, hugged them and said, “I promise. I just need a few hours.”
He stopped before he brushed by Kate. She gave him a sympathetic smile, then squeezed his arm again.
Even her comfort didn’t help. He left the room quickly.
o0o
THE SYCAMORE RIVER was turbulent, its muddy brown water swirling lustily, waves crashing against the bank, its scent earthy and a little menacing. A cold breeze blew off the water, playing hide-and-seek with Kate’s hair, ripping the heavy mass from its loose tie. She zipped up her jacket, but still shivered. Clutching the fine wool scarf and gloves she carried, she picked her way down to the big sycamore tree with its famous limb where Jay was standing, a solitary silhouette against the late-afternoon dimness.
Please, Katie, go find him. It’s been two hours. We’re sure he’s at the river, by the tree probably. He always went there when he was upset.
She shook her head as she walked lightly through the twigs and small rocks to the riverbank. After finding out about his snooping, she’d decided to have nothing further to do with him. But she couldn’t ignore Ruth and Rachel’s concern.
Or your own. Admit it, Katie girl.
Despite everything, she did care. It was impossible to witness what she just had and not respond. She wouldn’t have sought him out, though, if it hadn’t been for the aunts. Please, Katie, we’re so worried.
Six feet away, she stopped. He stood on the riverbank, feet apart, hands jammed into the pockets of his leather coat, his back stiff, the wind ruffling his hair.
She said simply, “Jay.”
He gave a start at the sound, but didn’t look at her. After a long moment, he said, “You shouldn’t have come. Especially after…” He trailed off, not needing to list his offenses against her. Both knew every rotten thing he’d done.
“Ruth and Rachel are worried.”
He spun around. “I said I’d be back.” His face was wind-whipped and ravaged. His hollow eyes came straight out of a Van Gogh painting.
She stepped closer. “They believe you.” She held out the scarf and gloves. “They said to bring you these. It’s cold.”
A grim smile claimed his lips. “They’re still taking care of me.” Like a dutiful son, he donned the fine leather gloves and wool plaid scarf. “Where did they get these?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“What’s one more blow?”
Shrugging, she said as kindly as she could, “They bought you these the last Christmas you were home. Rachel saved them in her hope chest after you left on Christmas Eve.”
One more blow was obviously too much. His bleak eyes became bleaker. Because she hated to see people suffer, and because, despite everything, she cared for the man before her, Kate said, “What’s important is now, Jay. You’ve hurt them, but you have a chance to make it up to them.”
He arched a brow. “By selling the store and moving back to New York in January?”
Stark reality stung more than the raw wind. She hadn’t even known where he’d lived. But this was her chance to really help Ruth and Rachel after all they’d done for her. So she squelched her own devastation and concentrated on them. “You have choices. You can visit here. They can visit you. New York isn’t that far away.”
“With the life I live, I may as well be on another planet,” he mumbled, turning back to the river.
She didn’t speak, just listened to the caw of a bird and the rush of the water. “Do you want to talk about Aaron?” she finally asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Mostly about the irony of life. Abraham Steele had two sons. Because of his stubborn pride, or whatever it was that kept him from claiming Aaron, he wound up with none.” An ugly laugh escaped him. “He could have had Aaron when I left fifteen years ago, and then when Aaron came back here—What was it? Two years ago?”
“Yes,” was all she said. She’d liked Abraham but couldn’t condone what he’d done. It was repugnant to her, especially when she remembered all the cruel things kids had said about and to Aaron. “Abraham was very wrong, Jay. There’s no getting around it.”
Unexpectedly, Jay kicked a loose stone near his booted foot. It flew into the water and splashed. “I don’t want to get around it. It’s good to know he’s done such a despicable thing.”
“Does it make it easier that you left?”
His shoulders sagged. “Yes. It does.”
“What will you do now?”
He faced her. His cheeks had reddened in the wind; even his ears were rosy. “Go see Aaron, of course.”
“That’s the right thing to do.”
“Surprised I have some integrity, Kate?”
His bitter tone gave her pause. “You saved my children’s lives. Regardless of everything else you did, I’ll always be grateful for that.”
Jay watched her for a few moments, forcefully quelling the burning anger that surfaced inside him at her comment. “I don’t want your gratitude.”
Her face drained of color. “What do you want?” she asked, as if she was driven against her will to say the words. Her innocence, her lack of guile, could destroy her.
I want your love.
As soon as the thought surfaced, he banished it. He didn’t want her love. Long ago, he’d trained himself to stop wanting the things he knew he’d never have. “I want you to help Ruth and Rachel through this.”
“I told you I’d do that.”
“I don’t expect you to help me.” He waved his hand at the river. “Coming here, talking to me.”
“I came here for your aunts, Jay, not you.”
Her words stung. “I understand. So go back to the store. Tell my aunts I’m fine. I’ll be home after I see Aaron.” He glanced at his watch. “He’s working as a guidance counselor at the school, right?”
“Yes.”
Jay checked his watch. “He should be done, then?”
“He’s probably holding a basketball practice, though.”
“I see. Tell Ruth and Rachel I’ll be back to take them out to dinner, as I promised.”
“They’d like that.”
Staring at the river he once loved, at the river that used to soothe his childhood pain, he heard her footsteps crunch on the twigs behind him He had the urgent and absurd need to beg her to stay with him, to help him deal with this newest revelation.
But he only glanced over his shoulder and watched her go. The wind rippled through her hair, making it fly around her shoulders. She was hunched against the cold, and he worried again that the jacket she wore wasn’t warm enough. She didn’t take nearly as good care of herself as she did others. As she disappeared into the trees, he felt a longing so intense it startled him.
And scared him to death. The man he’d become did not know how to deal with the emotion. At one time, as a young boy, he’d reveled in these feelings. But he’d killed that trait with quiet determination. He couldn’t understand why it had returned now.
Damn Riverbend, Indiana, for doing this to him.