Three days later, Minnie brought Cherise and little Tad over to say good-bye. Cherise and Tad were flying home to Atlanta in a few hours. Tad, Chloe, Bette, Kitty, and Minnie were all playing with Carly, who wouldn’t be going back to school until next week. Christmas had come early for her daughter, and she sat in the middle of an embarrassing array of new toys—even a Cabbage Patch doll. Leigh couldn’t take her eyes off Carly.
In the aftermath of her abduction, Carly had not been able to give much information about her kidnapping. A blindfold had been taped over her eyes, and she’d been afraid of the bad men who’d forced her into their car. Understandably, her daughter didn’t like it when Leigh left her sight.
The psychologist had told Leigh not to push Carly to speak about what had happened, but on the other hand, not to overreact with extra mothering or show of fear. The question of why Carly had been taken had so far been left begging. Carly hadn’t been sexually assaulted, physically abused, or otherwise threatened with harm. She’d just been taken and returned. Was this the end of it?
Apparently not, since their apartment was still under police surveillance.
Cherise drew Leigh out into the hall and in a voice that communicated, “We need to talk,” said, “Let’s have a cup of tea before I go.”
Wondering what her friend would have to say that the others shouldn’t hear, Leigh followed Cherise into her small kitchen, filled the kettle, and set it on the burner.
“Frank said he called you.”
Suspicious of Cherise’s motive, Leigh nodded and stood across from her friend, who sat down at the small kitchen table. In the past, other married women had distrusted her around their husbands. “Yes,” Leigh replied in a very neutral tone, “I appreciated his concern.” Please, Cherise, I have had a rough, very rough week. I can’t take any—
“I know that you were in love with Frank.”
Leigh stood stock still. Normally she wouldn’t reply to this. She would have ignored it, like Carly’s questions about her daddy. But too much had happened over the past week and, too, if this week hadn’t happened, Cherise probably wouldn’t have said this. Leigh lifted her chin. “I always wondered if you knew.”
Cherise nodded. “I gave it a lot of thought back when we were teens together. From what you told me about Frank’s parents and from what I guessed that you didn’t tell me, I decided that he wouldn’t make any promises to you. He wouldn’t become involved with a white girl.”
It’s just what Leigh had thought, but that didn’t absolve Cherise. You were my friend. “So he was fair game?” Leigh couldn’t hold back the mocking tone.
“Yes.” Cherise’s eyes never left Leigh’s. “As we three girls wrote him those letters, I began to see that he was the kind of man I was looking for, and when we met, I fell for him.”
“This is all ancient history.” Leigh threw a piece of crumpled paper from the countertop to the waste basket. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’ve always wanted to tell you, to try to explain that I felt bad for you, but that I wasn’t what was keeping you and Frank apart.”
“I knew that. But it still hurt.” Leigh looked back at the kettle, which was bubbling.
“I know. I just wish… Dane hadn’t died.”
“You’re not alone there.” Did Cherise have any idea of how tired Leigh was?
“Sometimes I feel funny calling you like I do—knowing that you had, maybe still have, feelings for Frank. But the truth is that I’ve found you to be one of the most honest, most vital friends I’ve ever had.” Cherise’s voice begged for understanding. “I know it probably stings you to hear from me, but I can’t break with you. Not you. You were the one who introduced me to the man who’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
The kettle began to whistle in earnest, giving Leigh a chance to think of what she wanted to say. She turned and lifted it from the burner… but nothing came to mind. So she said, “I wouldn’t want to lose you, either, Cherise.”
The words were automatic, had come out of their own will. Still, they connected with deep truth inside her. She loved them both, and she always would. Cherise and Frank had made a good family together. It was right. And she wouldn’t begrudge them anymore. “And I’m happy for you and Frank, truly I am.”
“I believe you—”
Tad ran to his mother, resting his outstretched arms on her lap. “What was that whistle?”
Cherise stroked the little guy’s face, a face that said, “This is Frank’s son.” “Aunt Leigh is making me tea. Do you want some?”
“If it gots honey in it.”
Leigh went about making the tea and getting down the honey. Then she turned with the tray and said in a sassy tone, “Cherise, I know you’ve used up your vacation time with this trip. But girlfriend, you and Mary Beth and I have got to have a girls’ weekend soon!”
Cherise smiled. “Soonest.”
It was Monday, a bright, shiny-as-a-new-penny, crisp November day. Thanksgiving was just around the corner. A grisly murder in Boston had overshadowed the news of a local girl’s kidnapping, so Carly was back in school without TV cameras following her and Leigh was going back to work. Wearing her royal-blue parka unbuttoned, she walked briskly toward her office building in Manhattan, feeling a wonderful joy at the normalcy of the day.
A black limousine with tinted windows glided to a stop at the curb right beside her. The rear passenger window slid down.
“Miss Sinclair!”
Leigh froze.
“Miss Sinclair, may I speak with you?” The voice was old, deep, and rough like heavy-duty sandpaper.
She approached the limo cautiously and glanced inside the dim interior. A lone older man, well-dressed and with white hair, looked back at her. “I need to talk to you, Miss Sinclair.”
It was too much like a setup. “They’d” taken Carly. Did “they” want her now? “I…” Heart racing, she began backing away.
“I’m here to tell you why your daughter was kidnapped.”
Halting, Leigh couldn’t draw breath. People hurried around her, barely glancing her way. She opened her mouth to what—scream for help? She couldn’t think.
“I’m Dane’s grandfather, Roman.”
Something told her this was true. But why was he here? Leigh reached to open the door, paused, and then she squeezed the handle and slipped inside. She stared at the man as the window beside her slowly went up. She saw Dane in his face. Or was it just her willing imagination?
“If it’s okay with you, I’ll have my driver take us ’round while we talk and then he’ll drop you back here.”
She studied the man. He was Dane’s grandfather. He had Dane’s eyes and brows. Or vice versa. She nodded.
The car purred away, and they rode in silence for a block. Roman gazed out the window, not looking toward her. “I know all ’bout you. I know my grandson intended you to be his wife. When he died, I made it my job to watch over you. I kept track of you all these years.”
The idea surprised her. She turned a little more toward him. This man had been watching over her? Like a fairy godmother?
“I know your little girl isn’t Dane’s.” He grimaced as if this bothered him. “It was too many months later that she was born. But Dane loved you, and I failed him. I had to make that right.”
Leigh felt like this was an improvisation that she’d been sucked into without warning. But all she really cared about was simple. “Who took my baby?”
“Funny you should ask,” Roman said dryly.
The car slowed; the door opened, and Trent Kinnard slid into the backseat.
“You!” Leigh gasped and made a move to get out past Trent. But he caught her arm.
“Don’t, Leigh. We need to talk.”
“I said all I needed to say to you ten years ago,” Leigh blazed. “What does this mean?” A horrifying thought nearly gagged her. “You? You took Carly?”
“Miss Sinclair, calm down.” The older man touched her arm. “Take it slow. There are things you need to hear, to understand. I won’t stretch this out a minute longer than I need to. I understand you not wanting to talk to this jerk. I don’t like him, either.”
Leigh sat back, moving closer to Roman. Trent was as handsome and well-dressed as ever, though he was completely silver now, looking like an aging aristocrat.
“What have you told her?” Trent asked, rubbing his hands together like Lady Macbeth.
“Not much. She just asked me who kidnapped her baby. And I’m going to tell her.” Roman directed his attention to Leigh. “Now this is a twisted story. I know all about this father—” He nodded toward Trent. “—of your child. When you come up pregnant, I had someone look into it. Trent Kinnard was the only man you were close to that year after Dane—”
“I made a mistake, a bad one.” She cast a glare at Trent.
“Yeah, you did, but when your heart is broken, you do dumb things.” He shrugged. “And you didn’t understand that every man wasn’t like Dane or your stepfather, that FBI agent that rescued my grandson all those years ago. Another debt I owed and needed to repay.”
“ And I didn’t understand that there were women who actually gave their hearts instead of selling them,” Trent muttered, looking down, still rubbing his hands together.
Leigh began to feel as if she’d been tricked into doing a scene for a Godfather sequel—the car, the way the man talked, the way he dressed. Was this for real? Trent was real. And she remembered Dane saying that she didn’t know about his family. Now that statement made sense. But Dane had been gone a decade. “Who took Carly?”
Roman pointed a thumb at Trent. “A guy that didn’t like Trent Kinnard digging into his business.”
“I’m sorry, Leigh,” Trent insisted, pleaded, “I’ve never told anyone about Carly being my child—”
“But Kinnard set up a half-million-dollar trust fund for your little girl, his only daughter.” Roman grinned. “It was the right thing to do. But that guy—the one who didn’t like Kinnard—was digging for a way to stop Kinnard, and he found out about the trust fund. He put two and two together and decided kidnapping Carly would clip Kinnard’s ‘Attorney General of Maryland’ wings, force an end to the investigation into his dirty business.”
“How did you find that out?” she asked, staring at Roman, her mouth open.
“I told you I keep tabs on you, and when Carly came up missing, I did my own digging. I found the man responsible for taking your girl. And I made him give her back.”
The satisfied tone made her tremble for the man who’d taken Carly. What kind of man was Roman? Was he really what he appeared to be, a ruthless and powerful man?
“That guy won’t be bothering you again. I took care of him,” Roman said offhandedly. “I wasn’t able to rescue my grandson all those years ago. But I was able to get your little girl back for you.”
Leigh sat back, stunned by all the information that had just poured forth from Roman’s lips. Had it really happened the way he’d just told her? A trust fund for Carly? A man trying to get at Trent?
“It’s the truth, Leigh,” Trent said, leaning forward. “I’m sorry I put Carly in danger. I thought I’d buried that trust fund deep enough that no one but my lawyer knew about it.”
“There’s always somebody who’ll talk if the pot’s sweet enough,” Roman said, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. “But neither of you has to worry about the future. No one is going to make the same mistake twice. I made sure of that.”
His tone chilled Leigh. She didn’t want to know how he’d made sure of it. Still, he’d rescued Carly. She laid her hand over his. “Thank you. I can never—”
He waved his hand, dislodging hers. “You don’t need to thank me. I owed Dane, and I was finally able to pay my debt. I let his mother marry a zero with a gambling habit. He nearly got Dane killed. If it hadn’t been for your stepdad, he would have. And see, now I paid that debt off, too. So I’m sorry your little girl had to go through that, but now my conscience is clear. I’m an old man, and I thought I might die before I could pay what I owed. Now everything’s settled.” He sounded completely satisfied.
Leigh touched his hand again. Here was someone who’d known and loved Dane, too. “I loved Dane with all my heart. I wish that Carly were his child, and then I would have kept part of him with me. I still grieve for him at times.”
Roman squeezed her hand. “I know,” he said gruffly. “You’re a good woman—too good for this jerk.” He nodded toward Trent. “You just made a mistake. Everyone gets to make a mistake. I’ve made a lotta them.”
“And so have I,” Trent agreed. “Leigh, isn’t there any chance for us? I found out that a marriage based on a business arrangement is doomed. I’m a free man now. We could start fresh.”
* * *
After Roman dropped Leigh back at the curb, she headed down the remaining few blocks to work. Mary Beth was waiting for Leigh in her office at Women Today.Leigh plopped down on the chair behind her desk and stared at Mary Beth, who looked very much out of place in her simple skirt and blouse. Was today going to be like that—just one surprise after another? Was her life never going to get back to normal?
“I won’t stay long,” Mary Beth stated. Telephones rang in and indistinct voices chattered in the background. “I just wanted to see you today. Everything happened so fast after we met again. I wanted to tell you again how much I regret how we parted—”
Leigh waved her hand. “Mary Beth, I’ve forgotten all about it. I just wished you’d contacted me years ago. You don’t know how many times I’ve wondered where you were. If you were even still alive—”
“I know.” Her friend gazed down at her ample lap. “I was ashamed of myself. I’d done things… well, I don’t mean to burden you with how low I went before I was willing to surrender my will to God. But I’d sunk about as low as a person can and still be recognized as human.” She looked up. “Maybe that’s why I sense your guilt over Carly. Things aren’t right between you and your daughter. Make it right, Leigh. Tell her the truth. And then forgiveness can begin.”
Leigh’s throat tightened, and she couldn’t speak.
“The truth will set you both free.” Mary Beth got up, kissed Leigh’s cheek, and left the office without another word.
“I can’t believe you got into a limo with a strange man,” Nate repeated, looking at her as if she had soft macaroni for brains. It was late at night, though the scent of Carly’s favorite pizza they’d eaten for supper still hung in the air. After her first day back at school, Carly was sound asleep, and he and Leigh were side by side on her sofa. He was going to get all the facts, and then Leigh was going to get the scolding of her life—even though being here with her was the nearest thing to heaven he’d ever felt. “Carly gets snatched, and you don’t see that—”
Leigh’s delicate hand covered Nate’s mouth for a few moments. “I recognized him as Dane’s grandfather.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
She put her hand over his mouth again. “Nothing happened to me.”
Nate grumbled to himself. He had a pretty good idea of who Roman was, but he wasn’t going to tell Leigh what he knew. Some things were better left unsaid. But who would have thought that a straight arrow like Dane Hanley had come from a crime family?
He kissed Leigh’s palm, and she lifted it from his mouth. “Well, at least, now we know what happened and why.”
Leigh nodded. “There was another man in the car.”
He moved a few inches closer to her, his desire to scold her melting. “A bodyguard?”
“No,” Leigh said, looking him directly in the eye, “Carly’s father.”
He felt his mouth go dry. “He was there. Why?”
Leigh shrugged. “I think Roman brought him because he wanted to see him humiliated.”
Nate sat up straighten “I don’t get you.”
“Dane’s grandfather has evidently been keeping tabs on me for over a decade. He knew or guessed that if he brought Carly’s father along, he would take this opportunity to try to get me to come back to him and Roman bet that I would refuse. I don’t make the same mistake twice. He wanted to see the attorney general of Maryland shot down—”
“Carly’s father is the attorney general of Maryland?” Nate asked in total disbelief.
She nodded. “Please keep that in confidence.” She folded her fingers over his. “Anyway, I think Roman wanted to see Dane’s fiancee put Trent Kinnard down, prove that his grandson was the better man.”
“That sounds way too convoluted—”
“I was there. I saw the body language and heard the tones, the inflections of his voice. I’m sure of it.”
“So you turned Kinnard down?” His spirit lightened.
She nodded.
“Going to turn me down?”
Her head swung around and her eyes met his.
“I’m here for good, you know.” He traced her lips with his forefinger. “I keep thinking about the fact that I came here the night Carly was born. That I saw her before she was even an hour old. I feel attached to her already. It feels like I’ve just been marking time until I found you and her again. And I’m not bowing out of your lives unless you get a court order.”
Unwilling to be swayed by his words, she still pressed her lips together and tugged away. “I’m not good… with men—”
“You’ve had a rough time, but that time is over.” With his right hand, he lifted her golden hair over one ear and watched it flutter down again like spun gold. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Leigh Sinclair. And that’s that.”
“I can’t give you what you want, Nate.” She sounded tight inside.
“And what do I want—” He lifted her hair again. As it drifted back to her shoulders, he watched it gleam in the low light. “—except for you?”
“I’m just not the loving-wife type.” She turned her profile to him and tried to move away from his hand sifting her hair.
“You’re fooling yourself if you believe that. And what’s a loving-wife type?” He moved closer, his mouth hovering over hers. “Do you think I expect to come home to fresh-baked bread and slippers? Get real. I love you, Leigh. Deal with it.” Then he bent his head and claimed her soft lips, marking her as his own.
Feeling the warmth spread through her, Leigh wanted to believe him, wanted to be persuaded, but it didn’t feel real. I’m thirty-six years old, and I’ve never won at love before. How can I believe it would ever happen now? Don’t love me, Nate. I’m bad with men—either they leave me or they die.