From the chill night, Leigh led Dane inside Kitty’s warm quiet, dimly lit townhouse. He folded her into his arms. She came to him without demur, molding herself to him, letting her arms creep up to circle his neck. She loved kissing Dane, letting Dane kiss her. When their lips parted, she sighed, prolonging the seductive thrum through all her nerves. “You do know how to kiss.”
But I want more, need more than kisses. These three years together have been wonderful, but maddening. I need to know whether you love me or not. And if you love me enough to make a commitment.
He chuckled. “Offer me something warm to drink before you send me out into the dank night again.” He was already taking off his black leather gloves and helping her out of her fur-collared coat to hang on the hall tree. As if nothing crucial were about to happen, she smiled and waved him to follow her. Earlier tonight she’d decided that this was it. After a few years of an on-again-off-again, long-distance relationship, she had to ask what Dane’s intentions for them were.
In the kitchen, she put the kettle on the stove and lit the gas burner. As she pulled mugs and hot cocoa mix from the shelf, she searched for the right words—without success. Dane came in and sat down at the tiny table. “Hey, Ted gave me that article you did on the chances for the Democratic Party in this year’s election. Well done.”
She smiled in reply but had her own agenda tonight. “How long are you here for this time?” she asked him as she pulled out the half-and-half. She set it on the counter next to their mugs. Dane liked his hot cocoa rich and creamy. And she liked performing this homey task for him. He would accept so little from her. And she longed to do so much more.
“Just this long weekend. I’m here to give a deposition in a case.”
“Sure I can’t persuade you to stay a bit longer?” She turned to him and lifted one eyebrow, trying to ease into her overriding question. She never knew quite what to expect from this man.
With one swift move, he took her back into his arms. Within seconds, he had backed her against the wall and she was drowning in his embrace. “You tempt me,” he murmured.
Dane, tell me that you love me. I need to hear the words.
Then he was back in his seat and she was breathing deeply and reaching for the kettle, which was just beginning to whistle. The words, “I’ve fallen in love with you,” hovered just behind her lips, clamoring to be voiced. Instead she asked once more, “Why do you do this—drop in and out of my life?”
For the first time, he didn’t try to evade her question. “I can’t help myself. I keep telling myself to stay away, but I can’t resist what you offer me.”
Feeling her way, she poured the hot water into the mugs. His words puzzled her. “And what is it that I offer you?”
“I come to warm my hands by your bright fire. In this cold world, there is so little warmth.” He accepted the mug from her hand, letting his fingers brush hers.
She stood over him. He always made it sound as if she was from Mercury, the molten planet nearest the sun, and he was from the dark, frozen side of the moon. Of course, he was nearly a decade older than she, and they lived very different lives. But it was time to put her feelings and his to the test.
“It’s been three years since Chicago. I was an innocent then, but I’m not naive anymore.”
“You will always be naive.” He blew on his hot cocoa. “You were born to be an innocent in this wicked world.”
“I don’t see that.” She propped a hand on her hip. “I’m not the girl I was in Chicago. I’m a woman out in the world every day, writing about it, trying to get others to see the injustices I see.”
“That’s what I mean.” He gazed up at her. “You’re still Joan of Arc, still the crusader who wants to save the world. The world doesn’t want to be saved. It wants to go to hell. Let it.”
She sat down across from him and shook her head. “I have to speak out.”
He nodded and took a tentative sip. “That’s your unquenchable fire, your bright passion. That’s what I can’t get out of my mind. That’s what always lures me back to you.”
His words were criticism and praise all in one. She wouldn’t let him dismiss her this way. She’d refused other men and waited for Dane’s intermittent calls or for the next time he’d just appear at Aunt Kitty’s door once again. She drew up her nerve. “Why not stay?” she asked, boldly reach ing over and placing her hand on his. “Why not get transferred to San Francisco? Why not buy me a ring?”
His fingers closed around hers, weaving together the two hands. “I’ve thought of that. But I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Would he never open up and tell her what really kept them apart? “What are you protecting me from?”
“I’m in a dangerous line of work—”
“Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “My stepfather’s FBI, remember?”
Dane shook his head with an apologetic but closed expression. “I’m not the man for you. I’ll try not to come back here again.”
He tried, but she wouldn’t let him pull his fingers from hers. “What holds you back? And don’t give me that Joan of Arc story.” I can’t go on just waiting by the phone.Even Aunt Kitty had suggested she pin Dane down, with the caution, “Dane’s wonderful, but, Leigh, you only have so many years in your youth.”
He wouldn’t look at her. “Do you know how I met your dad?” His deep voice was low, almost inaudible.
Hope sprang up even as she tried to force it to remain under control. “Tell me.” Please.
“Ted was working on a kidnapping case.” Dane looked away out the window as if it weren’t black night outside. “I was the kid who’d been kidnapped. I was fifteen.”
Leigh stared at him. “Why did that… why—”
He stood up and walked to the window, keeping his back to her. “My father engineered the whole thing. He was in debt, gambling debt, and needed money from his father-in-law.” He stared out the window as if he could see the rooftops below. “My father paid someone to kidnap me—someone very unstable, and I nearly got killed. Your stepfather figured it all out in time and saved my life.”
Leigh held her warm mug within two hands and took her time reacting. She’d ask for the truth, and he’d given it to her. Now what should she do with it? “So you had an idiot for a father.” She rose. “That’s all in the past. Why does that mean we can’t be together?”
“You’re fearless.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You don’t have a clue to what life can throw at you. I do. I don’t want you hurt because of who I was, who I am, who my family is.”
None of what he said gave her the answer she needed. “Why won’t you tell me what’s really keeping us apart?”
“I know you don’t understand, but that’s the way it’s going to be. I’d better be leaving.” He walked out into the hall.
Frustration and the fear of losing him pushed her. She followed him. She pleaded, “Stay for a while. We’ll make a fire and sit in the living room.” Don’t leave like this. I need to know the truth.
He halted and without words preceded her into the living room, where he began to lay a fire in the vintage fireplace. Leigh stood beside him and then led him to the sofa and pulled him down next to her. She knew how to snare him. She knew he’d respond to her.
He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck.
Leigh wanted to persuade him to tell her more, but every time she opened her mouth, his lips smothered her words with kisses. Frustration fumed inside her, but she’d already said too much, and for once he’d given her something to think about. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Maybe this couldn’t be done in one night. She would have to be content with what he’d told her that night and bide her time for the rest.
* * *
In the darkness of early morning, the phone rang. Leigh woke up and realized that she’d dozed off in Dane’s arms. Dane’s cheek had been resting on her head. Now he sat up straighter and looked around.
“I’ll get it,” Leigh said, reaching for the phone, a sudden fear zinging through her. Who would be calling at this hour?
“Hello?”
“Leigh,” her mother’s strained voice came over the line. “I’m so sorry to call so late, but… your grandfather’s had a heart attack.”
Leigh gripped the receiver. “Are you with Grandma Chloe?”
“Yes, your stepfather and I are here at Ivy Manor, or really, at the hospital. Leigh, you need to tell your Aunt Kitty, and you both need to get here as soon as you can. Your grandfather wants to see his sister before… before…”
Before he dies.Leigh squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them. “I’ll call you to tell you when to expect us at the airport.”
“Hurry. Hurry.”
Leigh couldn’t ever remember her mother’s voice sounding this way, shaky and uncertain. “I will, Mother. Bye.” Leigh put the receiver back into place. She relayed her news to Dane and rose to go upstairs. She halted.
Aunt Kitty in her robe already stood in the doorway to the foyer. “I heard you on the phone. Is it Roarke?”
“Yes. He’s had a heart attack.” Leigh went to her aunt and took her hands in hers. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not.” Aunt Kitty’s voice trembled. “But, I don’t have time to take this all in now. We have to pack.” But her great-aunt just stood there.
“You two go up and dress and pack,” Dane said, taking charge. “My rental car’s parked outside. I’ll drive you both to the airport. No travel agency is open now, but the airport is open around the clock. I’ll take care of everything. Just go get dressed for the trip and pack.”
Still hearing her mother’s shaky voice in her mind, Leigh looked back at him, the low glimmer from the fire backlighting him. His outline looked so strong and capable. “Thank you.”
She led Kitty back upstairs to her room. When Kitty still seemed bewildered, Leigh selected an outfit for her and told her to dress. Leigh then quickly selected a few more outfits and laid them on Kitty’s rumpled bed. “After you dress, pack these in your suitcase.”
Leigh went to her own room and slumped down on her bed. She felt like she’d been hit over the head and was still vibrating from the assault. Dear God, don’t let him die before we get to see him one more time.
Dane had taken charge, and now, late on Sunday afternoon, he drove them in his car the last few miles toward Ivy Manor. Aunt Kitty rode in the backseat, unnaturally silent. Leigh sat close beside Dane. She hadn’t tried to persuade him that she didn’t need him. She did need him. She was having trouble concentrating on anything; her thoughts drifted away, bringing up memories of her grandfather. He loved me.
Then Leigh realized that she’d used the past tense, and a tear slipped from her eye.
Before long, Leigh directed Dane to the side street that took them to the small hospital. After parking the car, he walked them inside to the information desk, where he asked for Roarke’s room number. He then escorted them up to the second floor and down the long hall filled with Sunday visitors to the private room on the end. At the door, he stepped back, letting her and Kitty enter first. The room was filled with family. Leigh immediately walked into her stepfather’s embrace.
Grandpa Roarke lay in bed, looking very pale and old—much older than Leigh remembered from her last visit at Thanksgiving, just a few months ago.
Grandma Chloe sat in a straight chair beside the bed, holding one of Roarke’s hands. When she spied Kitty, she rose and opened her arms. Kitty came and hugged her. Then Kitty moved to stand beside her brother on the other side of the bed. He moved his hand and she took it.
“You came, Kitty,” Roarke said in a thready voice that almost didn’t sound like him.
“I’m sorry I waited so long,” Kitty said in a shaky voice. Still holding Roarke’s hand, she sought the chair beside him as if her legs wouldn’t support her.
Leigh watched the scene unfold. Her mother came and stood on Ted’s other side and Dane kept his place beside Leigh. Her little sister, who was now a teenager, came over and kissed her, casting a glance at Dane. Leigh hugged her. Leigh’s uncles, Rory and Thompson, and their wives hovered in the background, greeting her with soft hellos, smiles, and nods.
Leigh felt the warm blanket of family wrap itself around her. She drew strength from it as she watched Aunt Kitty weep silently and her grandmother’s lips move in soundless prayer.
Later that night as Chloe watched her husband’s labored breathing, she recalled a hospital scene from long ago. That night, over forty years ago, when she and Roarke had kept vigil over Kitty, whose life had hung in the balance. Tears swelled in Chloe’s throat, but she kept them down. If she started crying, she wouldn’t be able to stop. And how long did she have left with Roarke? She wouldn’t let her final hours with him be marred by tears.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Kitty from the other side of the bed repeated once more.
“I wish you had, too, but you’re here now,” Chloe said.
Sleeping, Roarke was draped in an oxygen tent. It reminded Chloe of the passing away of his mother, Estelle, in 1930. The last few days she’d been under an oxygen mask on and off. Was it always like this at deathbeds? Did one always remember all the passings that had come before?
Chloe clung to Roarke’s hand, already cool within her grasp. I love you, my dearest. Always.
As if he’d heard her thought, Roarke opened his eyes and smiled at her. He couldn’t speak because of the oxygen tent, but she saw his love for her in his tender glance.
Kitty began weeping softly against the background shush of the oxygen.
Chloe’s favorite hymn hummed in her mind, “Oh, Lamb of God, I come. I come.”
Grandpa Roarke’s funeral took place six days after Leigh had arrived with Aunt Kitty. After the funeral at St. John’s, everyone gathered at Ivy Manor to draw comfort from each other. At first, longtime neighbors and friends filled the downstairs of the house along with the hum of low respectful voices, the scent of fried chicken, and the fragrance of lilies, the type of flower Roarke had requested for his funeral.
Grandma Chloe and Aunt Kitty sat side by side in the parlor on the loveseat. With Dane at her side, Leigh glanced around the crowded room. In addition to her uncles and their families, many others had traveled a long way to pay their respects. Her uncle Jamie had flown in from Hawaii. He stood nearest Chloe and Kitty. Minnie and her husband, Frank, had come from New York along with Drake Lovelady and his wife, Ilsa. Even Aunt Gretel had flown from Israel in time for the service. Leigh had been awed by this woman, who’d been her mother’s best friend and who had fought in 1948 to create the new state of Israel in Palestine.
But most of all, Leigh was so grateful to Dane, for his solid presence that made everything easier for her. He’d come and gone from work until her grandfather had died, then he’d taken a few days off. Leigh squeezed his hand, letting him know how much his presence meant to her.
Then suddenly Frank and Cherise walked into the parlor, shocking and wounding Leigh. A very pregnant Cherise came over to her immediately and hugged her. “We’re so sorry, Leigh. We got here as soon as we could.”
Leigh was thunderstruck. She hadn’t expected Frank and Cherise to come. She couldn’t find a single word to say.
Frank came up behind his wife. “My grandmother called us. I didn’t know if I could get away from the base in South Carolina, but my commanding officer said, ‘Of course.’ “ He shook Leigh’s hand and smiled down at her.
Leigh was still dumbstruck.
Dane offered Frank his hand. “I don’t know if you—”
“You were Leigh’s guest at our wedding,” Cherise said and smiled at Dane. “It’s so nice to see you again. Dane, isn’t it?”
Stark images from Frank and Cherise’s wedding flashed through Leigh’s mind, stung her heart. She’d worn a blue dress and stood mutely beside Cherise as she became Mrs. Frank Dawson III. “Thanks for coming,” she finally managed to say to them.
Then Minnie was at Cherise’s elbow. “How’s my favorite granddaughter-in-law?” She hugged Cherise while Frank leaned down and kissed Minnie’s cheek. “Come over,” Minnie said, “and pay your respects to Chloe. And you haven’t met Roarke’s sister, Kitty, have you?”
Leigh watched Frank as he followed Minnie’s suggestion.
Dane leaned down and murmured into Leigh’s ear, “Why don’t we take a walk outside? I could use some fresh air.”
Leigh nodded, suddenly eager to put distance between herself and the quiet somber gathering… and Frank. Dane snagged her coat off the hall tree and draped it around her.
Outside, the light breeze lifted Leigh’s mood. It was one of those balmy February days that whispers, “Spring.” She let Dane lead her down the dirt lane toward the creek behind the little cottage. The scene reminded Leigh of Aunt Jerusha, who’d died a year ago in her nineties.
“You weren’t happy to see Cherise and her husband?” Dane asked quietly.
Leigh recalled the night she’d met Frank in this very place almost a decade ago and their conversation here beside these willow trees. On that night, she would never have imagined everything or anything that had happened in their lives over the following years. Although she was only twenty-five, this made her feel old somehow. “I was surprised. That’s all.”
“You cared for him once. Ted mentioned that your mother was bent out of shape about it.”
“I did have feelings for Frank, but…” She shrugged. “That was a long time ago. I was just a kid.”
Without warning, Dane pulled her flush against him. “Will you marry me?”
Leigh stared at him, struck mute again.
“I know I’ve surprised you,” he said with a wry grin.
Shock made her feel a little lightheaded, and she clutched Dane’s arm. “Surprise doesn’t even come close to describing how I feel,” she said at last. “I thought you just turned me down last week.”
“A lot can happen in a week.”
“You mean my grandfather?”
“Your step-grandfather. As I understand it, your real grandfather died before your mother was born. And your own father died when you were just a baby.”
“Who told you all of this?”
“Ted told me this week while you and your mother were gone making funeral arrangements.”
“What’s all this leading up to? What has that got to do with us?”
“I finally decided that you are the only woman I’ve ever loved, the only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry and have children with. And I’ve decided that I shouldn’t throw you away just because I have an awful family and work a job that can be dangerous at times.”
Leigh stepped closer and rested her head against his worsted coat. “Oh, Dane, I do love you. And all that stuff doesn’t matter.”
“Well, it may matter, but it doesn’t today. Set the date.”
Leigh stared at the stream running fast and dark with spring run off. “Let’s marry in March. It will give me time to plan something small and elegant, and it will give my grandmother and Aunt Kitty time to recover a bit from today.”
“March is a good month, and I don’t want to wait any longer to claim you as my own.” He increased his pressure on her arms and pulled her up to him for a kiss that left her gasping. Her spirits rose. “Thank you, God,” she whispered thankfully.
Now, she could bear Cherise giving Frank a child because she wouldn’t be alone anymore. The only thing that still hurt was that just as Mary Beth hadn’t been present at Cherise’s wedding, neither would she be at Leigh’s. The sixties had ended, and Leigh had never seen her friend again. Sometimes before she fell asleep at night, she still wondered where Mary Beth was and what she was doing. Would she ever see her again?
Dane kissed Leigh and all thoughts apart from him vanished from her mind.
Leigh looked into the three-way mirror at her bridal gown, which had just come in. With the high waistline and pearl-encrusted bodice, she looked like a medieval princess in it.
“I love it,” Dory said.
Leigh turned and smiled at her. “And I think you look lovely yourself.” Dory was trying on her bridesmaid’s dress, an empire gown in pale blue that went beautifully with her eyes. Dane had asked Ted to be his best man, as well as the father of the bride, and Leigh’s sister would be her only attendant. Dory grinned and twirled around in her dress.
“I have been blessed with two lovely daughters.” From a chair beside the mirror, their mother beamed at them.
Leigh felt an overwhelming love for her mother and sister. All the old conflicts had died. She was going to marry Dane, and they’d have a family of their own. Her mother would be a doting grandmother, and Dory a proud aunt. Everything was going to be all right from now on.
* * *
Later that day, Leigh, her mother, and sister walked into the backdoor of their home in Arlington, carrying the large gold-and-white boxes that held their wedding finery. Leigh had been living back at home for the past month in order to carry out the wedding preparations. She and Dane would marry at St. John’s in Croftown, where her grandparents and parents had been married, and a small reception would be held at Ivy Manor.
As soon as they entered the house, Leigh realized it wasn’t empty. They put down the boxes and entered the living room. A large man with heavy jowls was talking to another man in the living room. Leigh’s mother froze in her steps. “Mr. Hoover?”
Then Leigh recognized him. He was J. Edgar Hoover, the head of the FBI.
“Yes, Bette, I’m so sorry, but I thought it best we wait here for you.”
Dory looked back and forth between her mother and the tall man with wavy gray hair.
“What’s happened?” Bette said, going to Mr. Hoover, both her hands held out in front of her. The older man paused a moment, clearly unhappy to speak. He looked sorrowfully at Bette.
“I’m very sorry, Bette, but we lost Ted this afternoon.”
Dory moaned. Leigh took hold of her arm.
“Lost him?” Bette echoed.
“He was working the Delaware investigation of that radical group, and it literally blew up in our faces. He was killed instantly, an explosion.”
Bette went white. Wordlessly she sagged against Mr. Hoover, who helped her onto the nearby sofa.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” he said. “Ted Gaston was one of my best men and a good friend. I’m so sorry, Bette.”
Dory hurried to their mother and sat down beside her. Leigh stood in the doorway between the dining and living rooms, unable to move or speak.
The other man, a stranger, cleared his throat and nodded toward her. Mr. Hoover turned to her and looked even more forbidding. “And you’re Leigh, aren’t you?”
She nodded, mute.
“I’m afraid that Dane Hanley was working the same case.”
“What happened?” Leigh whispered, though she was already tightening up inside, already realizing what the man might say.
“Dane was killed, also. I’m so very sorry. I know you were his fiancee. We’re all so very sorry.”
Leigh’s head swam in a rush of disorienting emotion. She put a hand out to catch herself, but she couldn’t find the wall. Strong hands pulled her forward and urged her down into an armchair.
“My wedding dress just came in from New York,” Leigh said, as if these words would work some magic, change what had happened. “We just picked up our dresses.” She leaned back, unable to halt the chill washing through her. The bright sunny day was suddenly cast into alternating shadow and a bleak light.
It isn’t true. There’s been a mistake. We’re going to be married next Saturday. I have my dress, and everything is planned.
“They always say deaths come in threes,” Grandma Chloe said. “I just never believed that kind of thing.”
Leigh, Bette, Aunt Kitty, and Grandma Chloe huddled together in the parlor at Ivy Manor. The house was empty of guests now that the double funeral was over. Dory had been given a sedative and was asleep upstairs in the little bedroom on the trundle bed. Leigh would join her as soon as she had the strength and will to walk up the steps.
“This is worse than losing Roarke,” Aunt Kitty murmured.
No one bothered to agree, but Leigh felt this, too. Grandpa Roarke had been over seventy and in ill health.
“Leigh, Dory will need you during this time,” Bette said, “please come back home.”
Leigh glanced at her mother, whose face had aged a decade over the past few days. Leigh read between the lines. Bette was the one who really needed her. Leigh had expected some plea like this from her mother, but Leigh didn’t want to leave Kitty, either. Who needed Leigh more—her little sister, her mother, or her aunt? And who or what did Leigh herself need? With the loss of her stepfather and Dane, a gaping rent had been opened up inside her heart. She felt empty, broken, bereft of hope. Who would comfort her?
Leigh gazed at her grandmother and mother. Years before, both of them had lost their first loves—her real grandfather and father. She wished she could ask them how they’d survived such a loss. But how could she ask them that when now they’d lost their second loves?
Leigh felt cheated. I didn’t even get to marry Dane. If it had only been Dane who’d been killed, I would be the only one receiving comfort.And then she felt guilty for being so self-centered. As it was, since she had only lost her fiance, she felt as though she should be the one comforting them. But she had no comfort in her to give.
“No one from Dane’s family came,” Aunt Kitty went on, sounding like a radio turned on low. “I can’t believe he didn’t have any family.”
“Dane broke with his family years ago,” Bette explained.
Leigh closed her eyes, trying to block out the one conversation she and Dane had shared that had touched on his family. He hadn’t wanted to invite any of them to his wedding, and none had come to his funeral. Or maybe they had attended. There had been a few strangers at the funeral, but maybe they’d just been FBI colleagues whom Leigh had never met.
Dane’s and her wedding day was only five days away now. But I’m not getting married. Dane isn’t coming back.Leigh felt as if she’d slipped out of her skin. She was raw and defenseless. Her love for Dane pulsed inside her like an aching of her very soul. Would anything ever be right again? She’d lost so many people—Mary Beth to drugs, Frank to Cherise, her grandfather, now her stepfather and her own love. How did a person who had lost almost everyone she loved find a reason to go on?