Books by Maggie Shayne (36 page)

But what did it mean? Maybe Annie was translating it all wrong, putting only the significance she wanted in place. She wanted it to mean that they were destined to be together, that no force on heaven or earth could tear them apart, that he was fated to come back to her and to stay, to be a father to their baby and—

Maybe he didn’t
want
to stay. Maybe that was it.

Annie blinked in shock at this new, frightening thought. It hadn’t occurred to her before, but now that it did… He’d told her he was incapable of feeling things like desire. She looked down at her swollen, misshapen body and closed her eyes. God, had she really been about to offer herself to him in bed this morning? Had she really thought she could rekindle his passion for her like this? She groaned and closed her eyes. No wonder he’d turned away so quickly. He must have known what she’d been thinking… wanting.

As she shed her robe and stepped into the shower, Annie wondered if there was a man in the world who’d rather live a mundane life with a wife and child than to be some kind of superknight traveling the cosmos with his magic sword to fight evil forces for the cause of good.

She didn’t know. But she did know that if there was one man who would choose his wife and child over unending adventure, it would be Richard. And she could make him want her again. She had to. Because if she lost him again…

But he said there was no way around it. That he had to go back. And the old man had told her the same thing.

While she showered, she heard Ren come into the bathroom and pick up the pieces of the glass she’d broken. She wished the pieces of her broken heart could be swept up so easily.

Ren drove, and as he did, he remembered. Not everything. Not his entire life before or their entire life together. But certain feelings crept up on him. There was a feeling to belonging somewhere, belonging
with
someone. And he’d had that feeling once. He’d stopped being just Richard and had become Annie’s partner. People, friends, the entire community had begun seeing them as a team, a pair, a couple. Even before he’d married her. Long before then. It must have begun when they’d been little more than children.

When one was hurting, the other hurt. When one was happy, the other was happy. When one was sad…

She was sad now. And he felt it. It had been so long since he’d experienced this sharing of emotions. So long since another person’s feelings had mattered so much to him. But hers did.

“It’s going to be all right, Annie.” Stupid thing to tell her. He had no idea if it would or not. He had no idea if she could handle his leaving when this was over. But he thought she could. She was strong. Annie had always been so incredibly strong. He wanted to pound his fist on the steering wheel in frustration, but he restrained himself. For her sake. And he knew, only too well, that there would be time enough for the rage later. Endless time, without her.

“It will,” she told him. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Ren blinked and glanced sideways at her. There was something different in her voice, in her demeanor, as if she was hiding behind something false. What was the matter with her? Her voice wasn’t her own. A new one that didn’t belong to her rang out in its place, holding no emotion, no tenderness the way it usually did. He studied her for a moment and saw a porcelain mask on her face. Expressionless, she stared straight ahead as if she was very deep in thought and maybe not liking what she was thinking.

“Annie?”

She only shook her head in a way that told him more plainly than words not to pursue the question he’d been about to ask. He frowned and decided to ask it anyway. But she was faster.

“Where are we going?”

He sighed, frustrated that she’d changed the subject, and determined to bring it up again later. But he could see something had upset her, so much so that she was hiding it from him. So he decided it would be best to put it off—for now.

“I studied a map last night. There is a place a few hours north of here. Secluded and safe. A lake in a forest. We can rent a cabin there.”

She blinked but didn’t look at him. Before his eyes, the color slowly drained from her face. “Mystic Lake?”

Ren cocked his head to one side. “How did you know?”

“Hell, Ren, it’s obvious you’re here to torture me. No better place to do it, is there?”

“I don’t under—”

“Damn you for this. And damn you more for not knowing what that place is, what it means. God, Ren, how can you possibly not know?”

He shook his head. Keeping up with her changing moods was like running an obstacle course. Now she was angry, her fury snapping like an electrified wire, threatening to burn him. He knew he was hurting her again, tearing her heart out, but for the life of him, he didn’t know why.

“Ren, your mother and my parents are the owners. They rent out the cabins on the lower side of the lake, the ones you can drive to. But the one on the north side is for family only. It’s utterly secluded. Dammit, Ren, it’s where we met when we were little kids. It’s where we snuck off into the woods to neck when we were teenagers. It’s where we spent our honeymoon. Two weeks of uninterrupted conjugal bliss in a rustic, enchanted cabin smack in the middle of a magical paradise.“

He didn’t speak. He couldn’t for a while. At least the mask had faded. Her pain was clearly visible now. The way her lower lip quivered, the way she caught it between her teeth and bit down hard to stop it. The moisture in her eyes, shimmering deeper no matter how often those thick velvet lashes swept it away.

“It’s the place where our baby was conceived,” she said softly.

“Annie, I didn’t know—”

“Of course not. It’s just another coincidence, right, Ren?”

She didn’t really believe that. Maybe the name had stirred some long-dead memory of their happiest times together. Maybe he’d chosen it because of some subconscious longing to go back. Maybe. But he couldn’t tell her that, could he? If she knew he was remembering her—remembering the two of them, together—it would only be harder on her in the end.

“We’ll go somewhere else instead. I’m sorry, Annie. I honestly didn’t know. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Then why did you leave me?” She clapped a hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes tight as soon as she blurted out the question.

He couldn’t do it. Ren simply couldn’t bear to sit there beside her and see her in so much pain. He pulled the car to the roadside and faced her, clasping her shoulders when she would have turned away.

“Listen to me.”

She shook her head, averting her face even as the tears flooded over it.

“Listen,” he repeated, holding her there. Then, as a sob tore through her chest, he broke. His will, his strength, they dissolved at that heartbroken sound, and he put his arms around her and drew her to him. Her eyes fluttered open and met his. He saw the emeralds swimming beneath her tears, and wanted nothing more than to take her pain away.

Her eyes widened, her lips parted to question him. But before a word could escape, he covered them with his own. And the taste of her mouth was all he remembered and more. Sweetness and life-giving nectar. His anguish died as Ren sank into a well of feeling. He could drown in these sensations and not mind. His hands moved into her hair, fingers stroking and twining, holding her head captive for his seeking mouth. He tasted her, delved into her with a questing tongue to find even more drugged honey. His mind seemed to melt away, and passion took its place in his brain. He loved her. He wanted her. Annie. His woman. His wife.

She clung to him for all too brief a time, and then she stiffened and pulled away.

“I don’t… understand,” she whispered, and the confusion in her eyes matched what he was feeling.

He straightened, the taste of her still on his mouth, her scent, her touch. He was more than a bit dazed as he searched her beautiful face, her eyes, so tormented and confused… and maybe a little frightened. Of him?

Ren blinked away the ecstasy-induced haze and tried to understand what she must be feeling. “I don’t either.”

“If it’s pity, if that’s what this was, then—”

“I don’t know what this was,” he told her. “But I promise you, Annie, it wasn’t that.”

She drew her legs up underneath her and leaned back against the seat, still studying his face. He wished to God he knew what she was thinking.

“Maybe… maybe going to the cabin is a good idea after all,” she said very softly. Then she nodded decisively. “Yes. I want to go there. My mother’s been bugging me to go there ever since…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. “It used to be my haven. Maybe it’s time I went back. Maybe if I’m there, I’ll be able to figure things out.”

He looked at her there for a long moment, even lifted a hand to touch her. But he lowered it slowly. He didn’t want to hurt her again. He never should have kissed her that way because he was sorely afraid he’d given her false hope. It wouldn’t happen again. He wouldn’t let it.

He pulled the car back onto the road and drove. But his mind was on anything but the task at hand. Instead it was busy searching, seeking, striving to find an answer to all of this, a way to avoid hurting her. He knew one thing, and one thing only. He didn’t want to leave her again. And there went another one of his vows, blown to bits. He was losing ground fast with Sir George. If he wasn’t careful, this mission could very well end up being his last.

Maria sat in the overstuffed chair on the glass-enclosed porch, basking in the sunlight. It made golden stripes on her bronzed, wrinkled skin and in her still-dark hair. If Annie had known Maria was visiting her parents that day, she’d never have stopped by. She’d have just hiked up to the cabin without even letting them know.

Too late now, though.

“Annie, honey, I know I’ve been after you to take a vacation at the cabin,” Georgette continued, her wheedling already becoming tiresome. “But, baby, not now. Not so close to your time.”

“My time is a month away. Mom, I need to do this. Please, stop nagging.”

“Your mother is only concerned about you,” Ira added, ever Georgette’s staunch defender.

“I know that, Dad. Look, it’s only for a little while.”

“Well, it’s simply out of the question. That’s all there is to it. You know the only way up there is on foot or on horseback, and you
must
know that pregnant women can’t do things like that!”

“Mom…”

“I think she ought to go.” The voice was laced with a Spanish accent, and all eyes turned to Maria.

Ren hadn’t taken his eyes off the older woman since they’d arrived, and Annie had been wondering if he remembered her, felt any recognition at all. He hadn’t said a word, probably for fear she’d recognize his voice and go into shock. Now he tilted his golden blond head and studied her. Annie, in turn, studied them both. There was no obvious similarity between mother and son. Ren was the image of his blond, blue-eyed father, who’d died long ago. But if you looked closely, you could see the likeness. It was in the bone structure of the face. The proud shape of the chin. The exotic tilt of Ren’s sapphire eyes was the same as that of Maria’s sightless black ones. Their smiles were alike, too.

“Why on earth do you think that, Maria?” Georgette patted her hand as she asked the question.

“Richard wants her to.” Maria closed her eyes and nodded her head in serene certainty. “He’s coming back to us, you know. Of course you know. I already told you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Maria. You told us.” Georgette blinked her eyes dry and bent to kiss the leathery cheek. “We love you, sweetie. We know how much you miss him.”

“He’s near,” Maria said softly. “Very dose to us, right now. I feel him.” She smiled dreamily, tilting her face toward the sunlight. “Everything will be fine once Richard gets back. You go up there to the cabin, Annie. You wait for him there. He’ll know where to find you. It was your special place.”

The four others in the sun-drenched room went silent, and worried searching looks passed from Annie’s parents to her, and back again.

Maria rocked in her chair, her smile appearing, sad and wistful. “I remember how the two of you would scamper in the woods and play in the water when you were little babies,” she said, her voice a lilting song. “Oh, I knew my Richard had met his match in you, Annie, even then.”

Georgette smiled. “I knew it, too. Remember how you’d follow him everywhere he went, Annie? My goodness, I’d never have believed—” She bit her lip, meeting Annie’s damp eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I remember it, too.”

Her mother sighed, nodding gently. “I still think you ought to at least check with your doctor first,” Georgette said. “If he says it’s safe, I’ll stop arguing. Maybe some time on the lake is just what you need after all.”

“Of course it’s what she needs,” Maria said. “He’s near, I tell you.”

Annie blinked away her shock at Maria’s perceptions. If she became as close to her own child as Maria had been to her son, Annie thought she’d be eternally grateful. To be so connected that she could feel his presence… It was uncanny.

Silently she walked over to where Maria sat in the chair. She knelt in front of her, wrapped her arms around her mother-in-law’s fragile frame, and hugged her tight. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. If Ren truly did have to go back when this was all over, it might be better if Maria never knew about any of it, although Annie had a feeling the woman already knew. In fact, she’d known all along. Ever since the accident, she’d insisted her son wasn’t really dead.

Sweet Maria. Annie thought maybe Maria would recognize Richard just as she had, if she had her sight. It was almost a blessing she couldn’t see him there, only to have to lose him all over again. She’d never survive that.

Annie wasn’t sure she was going to survive it herself.

Ren had almost gone to the old woman, too, when he saw Annie hug her. He wanted to. And it took every ounce of his will to resist. He couldn’t because he had a feeling she’d know exactly who he was if he did. So he kept his distance, just watching her from across the room and wishing he could embrace her. Wished he could say to her, “It’s all right, Mother. I’m right here. I’m here with you.”

But he couldn’t do that either. He wondered, and not for the first time, if he’d realized what an incredibly lucky man he’d been in his mortal life. How many men were loved as deeply and thoroughly as Richard—as
he
— had been?

Annie went inside to make her phone call. He’d started to go with her, but she’d told him she wanted privacy for the conversation. He gave it to her, though he couldn’t help but wonder why.

He’d damned near changed his mind about the entire notion when he’d realized they would have to reach the cabin by horseback. Though Annie had said she could walk it, Ren felt hiking was out of the question. Horseback riding didn’t seem like a viable alternative. But when Annie came back outside she nodded.

“The doctor says it’s okay, but not to go faster than a brisk walk.”

He was still having second thoughts, though, even as he helped Annie’s father transfer the meager things they’d packed into saddlebags.

The two men stood in front of a small stable, a pair of fine Appaloosas patiently grazing nearby.

“Georgette and I stocked the place last month,” Ira told him. “We were hoping Annie would spend a weekend up there with the two of us before the baby came. Course, we knew we’d have a fight on our hands.” He shrugged, and there was sadness in his eyes.

“She’s refused to go up there since Richard died. Can’t say as I blame her. He was a good man, Richard was.”

Ren nodded and continued packing the saddlebags. He felt Ira studying him whenever he wasn’t looking. Typical father, wondering what this stranger’s intentions were toward his daughter. Ren wished he could reassure him. But he was helpless to do so.