Cavanaugh’s Woman (15 page)

“That’s tomorrow,” she told him. “Today is today and I like living each day one day at a time.”

He was doing his damnedest to distance himself from her, from the inevitable, and he wished she’d let him get on with it. “Nice motto.”

The words had a sarcastic bite. Struggling against their sting, Moira forced herself to make allowances for his mood. She knew Shaw had to be going through a lot himself, what with his mother finally regaining her memory and finally returning to them in every sense of the word.

But still, what he said hurt.

She searched for a way to lighten the unspoken tension between them. “You know, when they make the movie version of this, I think I’d like to play your mother.”

Preoccupied, looking for an excuse to get away from her again, Shaw looked at her. “What?”

She supposed it was more her profession than her nature that made her see things in a certain light.

“Well, this has all the markings of a wonderful, feel-good movie.” She spread her hands out before her as if projecting a story on the screen. “Woman disappears, is presumed dead by everyone except for her loving husband who never gives up hope that she’s alive somewhere. And then he actually finds her. A winner at the box office every time.”

“Don’t forget my part,” Rayne interjected, coming up behind them. “If I hadn’t stopped by that diner a couple of months ago, on the way to question a witness, none of this would have happened.”

“We also have to give star billing to the showerhead,” Callie teased, coming up on the other side of them. One look at her face told Moira just how elated Callie was. But family never missed an opportunity to tease one another. “If it hadn’t come off and sprayed water in Mom’s face, her memory might never have returned and we wouldn’t have our happy ending.”

Listening, Moira shook her head. “It’s amazing how life’s little coincidences dovetail together to make things happen.”

“Yeah, amazing,” Shaw echoed, edging away. He spared Moira a glance. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I need to talk to.”

Before she could say anything, he’d walked off.

Feeling a little awkward, she looked at Rayne. “Is it me, or is there a chill in the air?”

“Yes,” Rayne confirmed, then elaborated. “There’s a chill in the air and it’s you.”

Well, that certainly made things no clearer. “Excuse me?”

Rayne paused to pick up one of the hors d’oeuvres her father had made. Fueled by triumph, he had handled every aspect of this quickly thrown together celebration and still managed to outdo himself. “Shaw doesn’t want you leaving.”

She had strong doubts about that. “Well, he has a funny way of showing it. I would have said that he couldn’t wait for me to be gone.”

“Then you would have been wrong,” Rayne told her simply. “Shaw doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but we’ve got him pretty well figured out by now. You’ve rocked his world when he didn’t want it rocked.”

Moira was certain that the other woman was just trying to be polite and make her feel good. “And you’ve figured this out how?”

“Trust me, a sister knows.” In a gesture filled with acceptance and camaraderie, Rayne slipped her arm around her. “He won’t admit it, but he and I got pretty close when he was trying to save me.”

Okay, Moira thought, she was lost again. “Trying to save you?”

Popping the rest of the hors d’oeuvre into her mouth, she grinned.

“I was an A-number-one pain in the butt growing up. I blamed Dad for Mom’s disappearance and in short made life a living hell for him and the others. Shaw spent a lot of time trying to straighten me out.” The grin faded a little as she became serious. “That’s the kind of guy Shaw is. When he loves someone, he loves them completely, come hell or high water.”

Moira felt as if she were intruding into something personal. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I know him and I know he has feelings for you. Deep feelings.” She picked up one more hors d’oeuvre, then paused as if studying it. She raised her eyes to Moira’s face. “The two of you are going to have to work this out for yourselves, but if you hurt him,” she added, “I’ll come after you.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Rayne was wrong, Moira thought as the other woman walked off to rejoin her fiancé. If Shaw cared, she’d know. Somehow, a part of her would know. And right now, he was freezing her out. Freezing her out so badly that it hurt. Yes, he’d extended his father’s invitation to her, but grudgingly so.

And he had made himself fairly scarce throughout the party, acting as if she were already gone, instead of making the most of the time they had left.

You didn’t do that if you cared about a person.

With a sigh, she turned away. And spotted Shaw. He was talking to a woman she didn’t recognize. The woman was laughing at something he’d just said and she draped her arm around him. Possessively. Shaw made no effort to step away.

Moira felt something squeeze inside of her.

She looked around for her sister. It was time to go.

Chapter Fifteen

M
oira looked at her watch. It was almost time to leave for the airport. Carrie had already called from her room, saying that she and Amy were ready and just waiting on her.

And she was waiting on Shaw.

All morning long, she’d felt as if she’d been holding her breath. He knew she was leaving today, so where was he?

He’s not coming.

Moira shut the voice out of her head, even though she knew she should be paying more attention to it. But there were some lessons that were not easily learned.

Returning from the party last night, she’d spent the remainder of the evening waiting for Shaw to call. Hoping he would show up at her door.

But he hadn’t.

The rest of the night had dragged by, one microsecond at a time, until it was finally behind her and dawn was poking its way into the world. Amassing maybe fifty minutes’ worth of sleep over the course of the entire night, she felt like hell.

That’s what you get for putting your faith in the old shell game, she upbraided herself as she’d artfully applied makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes. Except, instead of a pea, you stuck love under one of those shells. Love, love, who’s got the love?

Certainly not Shaw.

She’d thrown down her eye shadow wand. It had bounced off the counter, leaving a light blue streak as it fell to the floor. Anger coupled with frustration as she bent to pick it up again. What had she been for him? A fling? A celebrity tryst?

She knew she wasn’t being entirely fair to Shaw, but she didn’t much feel like being fair. Not when her heart was aching so badly.

The moment she heard the knock on her door, she flew to it and flung it open, ready to forgive and forget because he had come.

She struggled very hard not to let her smile fall when she saw that it was Reese standing on her doorstep and not Shaw.

“Hi.” She gestured him into the room. “Come to say goodbye?”

Reese looked uncomfortable as he entered the suite. His customary easygoing smile looked just a trifle forced. But there was a look of compassion in his eyes when he turned to look at her. It was clear he didn’t regard her as a movie star any longer, but someone who was real, with real feelings.

“Yeah.” He ran his hand along his stubble, nervous, looking for words. “I wanted you to know that I really liked having you as a ride-along. And I appreciate that bit part—”

“Walk-on.” The correction was automatic. She’d even seen to it that he’d had two lines to recite and to his credit, he’d done them well.

“Yeah, that.” He beamed, relaxing. “I appreciate the chance. It was a real kick.”

“Well, I enjoyed riding along with you. And I did learn a lot.”
Maybe a little more than I’d bargained for,
she added silently. “You can tell Shaw that for me when you see him.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.” Reese shifted slightly. They both knew they were ignoring the elephant in the living room. He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down at her packed bags. “Um, he asked me to say goodbye for him.”

Well, that settled it. Shaw wasn’t coming. “He needs a ventriloquist?”

Reese blew out a breath, shaking his head. “Ask me, my partner needs to have his head examined. But nobody asked me.”

Moira smiled, understanding what the detective wasn’t saying and appreciating the silent message. She brushed a kiss against his stubbled cheek. “Maybe not, but it’s nice to hear, anyway.” She stepped back to look at Reese. “Thank you.”

He shrugged, as if his words were the least he could say and they both knew it. “Got anything you want me to tell him?”

There was a great deal she wanted to say to Shaw, but not through a go-between. Besides, what was the use? Shaw had said it all by not coming to see her off. By not calling to try to make arrangements to see her again once this movie was under wraps.

She shook her head. “Just goodbye, I guess. There doesn’t seem to be anything else to say.”

Reese looked genuinely disappointed. “If I should ever get down to L.A.—” he began.

“I’d be hurt if you didn’t look me up. Call me anytime.” Pulling a hotel pad over to her, Moira wrote down her private number as well as her cell number and her address. She tore off the sheet, then folded it in half and handed it to him. “Here. Just make sure this doesn’t fall into the wrong hands and wind up on eBay.”

Taking out his wallet, Reese tucked the piece of paper behind several bills. “Not a chance.” Pocketing it again, he glanced toward the door. “Well, I guess I’d better get going.”

Hooking her arm through his, she walked him to the door.

“Go catch some bad guys,” she told him fondly.

It wasn’t until she’d closed the door again and was fairly certain that Reese had made his way down the hall to the elevator that she let the tears fall.

She allowed herself exactly three minutes of self-pity. Then, squaring her shoulders, Moira picked up the telephone to call her sister. There was a plane to catch. And the rest of her life to live.

“So, you’re not going to ask?”

Reese had spent the better part of the afternoon glaring at him, both in the office and in the car. So far, he’d done a fair job of ignoring the man. It hadn’t been easy.

Shaw gripped the steering wheel, knowing he couldn’t avoid the topic any longer. “Ask what?”

Annoyed, Reese blew out a long breath. “What Moira said.”

Shaw stared straight ahead at the road before him. Traffic was light. “All right. What did she say?”

“She said goodbye.”

Prepared to hear more, Shaw was surprised by the economy of words. It proved his point, that this was just an interlude for the actress and that he was right when he felt he couldn’t make anything of it. Being right didn’t make him happy.

“That’s it?”

“Well, what did you expect her to say?” From Reese’s tone it was clear to Shaw that his partner had taken sides and it wasn’t with him. “That’s all you said and that wasn’t even in person.”

“What do you want from me?”

Reese lost his patience. “I want you to stop being an idiot, that’s what I want. A gorgeous woman like that doesn’t come along every day.”

Well, at least they were agreed on that. “No, she doesn’t.” Shaw set his mouth grimly. “And now she’s back where she belongs.” He could feel Reese’s eyes as he stared at him.

“How do you know where she belongs?”

What, did Reese need a road map? It was as plain as the nose on his face. “She’s an actress.”

“So she belongs in Hollywood?” Reese hooted. “You never heard of airplanes? People commute all the time. And not all the so-called ‘stars’ live within walking distance of the studio, buddy. Los Angeles isn’t exactly at the end of the known world. You might think about paying her a visit sometime.”

Yeah, right, Shaw thought. Like some starstruck groupie who was fixated on her. “What, go stand in front of her studio in hopes she’d turn up?”

Reese shook his head in complete amazement. “You know, for a smart man, you have absolutely no imagination.”

Shaw glanced at him as he came to a stop at a light. Reese pulled out his wallet, took a piece of paper out of it and then, leaning over, tucked that into the top pocket of Shaw’s jacket.

The light turned green. Shaw didn’t have time to fish out the paper and look at it. “What’s that?”

“Her address and phone number.”

“She gave it to you?” Why would she give it to Reese and not him? But then, he hadn’t asked for it, Shaw reminded himself. Knowing Reese, his partner had probably broadly hinted.

Reese nodded. “Said if I was ever in the area, to look her up.”

Annoyed, Shaw pulled out the paper and held it out to his partner. “So, then, this is yours.”

Reese pushed his hand away. “Damn it, Shaw, don’t be so obtuse. Moira meant that information for you, not me. Except you weren’t there to give it to, like you should have been.”

For the time being, Shaw replaced the paper in his pocket. But there was no sense in keeping it. It wasn’t as if he was going to act on the information there. He didn’t belong in L.A. any more than she belonged in Aurora. It was just something he was going to have to come to terms with—if everybody else would let him. “We’re from two different worlds, Reese.”

“That’s a crock.” He looked at him sharply, but Reese remained unfazed. “You’re both earthlings. I figure that’s a good start.”

“Not good enough.”

Reese sighed, temporarily giving up. “Never figured you to be a dumb man, Shaw.”

Shaw said nothing.

But he left the paper in his pocket.

“What’s this?”

Shaw looked at the small envelope his father handed him. It had been two weeks since Moira and the production company had left Aurora. The excitement of having a major film crew in their midst was just beginning to dissipate around the city, but Shaw found that his own restlessness was increasing instead of lessening. The only thing that was lessening these days was his patience. With himself and with others.

In an effort to steer his life back onto familiar grounds, he’d stopped by his father’s house to spend a little time with the family. But they only succeeded in irritating him, the way everything and everyone had ever since she’d left.

The house had all but cleared out right after dinner and he’d gone out on the patio to get some air and maybe some perspective. All he found was air.

When his father came out to join him, Shaw searched his mind for a scrap of conversation and came up empty. So he’d stood, facing the back of the yard, and let his father take the lead.

Andrew surprised him by placing the small envelope into his hand.

“An open-end round-trip ticket,” Andrew told him.

Shaw didn’t open the envelope. “To where?” he asked suspiciously.

“L.A.,” his father replied matter-of-factly. “Where you go from there once the plane lands is your own business.”

He knew where this was leading. He held the envelope out to his father, but Andrew made no effort to take it back. “I’m not going to see her.”

Andrew nodded. “Fair enough.” He sat down at the table, motioning for Shaw to join him. After a beat, his son did. “But I think you should know that the same people who chipped in for this ticket took an oath to kill you if you didn’t use it.” Andrew grinned when his son looked at him. “That’s even coming from Callie who’s always been in your corner.”

Shaw turned the envelope around in his hand. “Kill me, huh?”

“That’s what they said.”

Shaw sighed, then rose to his feet as he pocketed the ticket. “Maybe I’d better think about it, then.”

“Maybe.” Andrew watched his oldest as he headed for the patio door. “I’d think fast if I were you.”

Shaw stopped and looked at him. “Why?”

Andrew took a long sip of his lemonade, then said, “The ticket’s for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Shaw echoed incredulously. That wasn’t enough time to get things squared away. “I haven’t cleared—”

Andrew knew what his son was going to say before the words were out of his mouth. He’d gone to Shaw’s superior and put in for some vacation time for his son. “Already taken care of.”

Shaw laughed as he shook his head. He might have known. “You don’t leave much to chance, do you?”

“Never get ahead that way.” He grinned. “Tell her hi for all of us.”

Shaw had his doubts about the venture. After all, he hadn’t even stopped by to tell her goodbye. He was acutely aware that they hadn’t parted on the best of terms. “She might not want to see me.”

Andrew met his son’s eyes. “You’ll never find out standing here, will you?”

“Guess not.” Opening the sliding glass door, Shaw went inside.

Andrew silently toasted him with his lemonade glass. “Smart boy.”

Moira let herself into the house, flipping on the light switch beside the security keypad.

Tired, it took her a minute to remember the code and re-arm it. Tossing her key on the side table, she shed her purse and stepped out of her shoes as she made her way to the living room sofa. She fell into it, wilting, trying to gather enough energy together to make it up the stairs to her bedroom.

She felt beyond drained.

It was late. She’d remained on the set today longer than usual, running lines for the next day with Carrie.

Thoughts of her sister made her smile. At least things were going well there. Carrie had really come into her own these past couple of weeks. After a few days here, she’d insisted on moving out and getting her own apartment. It was time, Carrie had told her, trying to assuage her big-sister concerns, to start standing on her own two feet again. She’d even taken to mentoring Amy, who showed a great deal of promise now that there were people taking an interest in her as a human being.

The part of Moira that wasn’t bent on mothering every creature that breathed, especially her own blood, was extremely proud of Carrie.

Moira moodily dragged a hand through her hair. She wished she could be that resilient.

It felt as if the spring that governed her ability to bounce back had rusted in place. Temporarily, she insisted silently as she debated just sacking out on the sofa instead of making the long trip up to her room.

For now, she was trying to fill up every waking moment in her life with work or something connected to work. If she had no time to think, she couldn’t hurt, right?

It was a good theory, but the hurt came anyway, when she least expected it. Like some giant, macabre jack-in-the-box clown, leaping up at her and taking her breath away. Stripping a little more of her heart.

Moira frowned in disgust. She’d never, ever thought she could fall in love so fast, so hard and be so wrong about it.

But she’d obviously been wrong about Shaw Cavanaugh because if she hadn’t been, he would have come to her that last day. He would have tried to make some kind of arrangements to see her, to at least stay in touch. Reese had found the time; why hadn’t Shaw, instead of just letting her go like that?

It’d been miserably long two weeks and there hadn’t been a phone call, a letter, a carrier pigeon with a note strapped to its leg, nothing. Not even so much as a telltale hang-up on her machine. She’d given her numbers to Reese and she was positive that the man had understood that she’d meant them for Shaw. She would have bet anything that Reese had given Shaw the number to her cell and her house. If she wasn’t hearing from Shaw it was because he didn’t want to call her.