Judith McNaught (61 page)

"By
looking
at her?" Meredith exclaimed as Joe slowed and turned onto a tree-lined residential street.

"No, I think I'm supposed to ask her, which is why I'm so delighted you volunteered to come with me. If she denies she's pregnant, I am to let Zack know whether or not I believe her."

"Unless she's used some sort of early pregnancy test, she may not know that herself. It's only been three weeks since she left him in Colorado." Meredith pulled on her gloves as Joe O'Hara brought the car to a

teeth-jarring stop in front of a neat one-story ranch-style house where little boys were getting on their bicycles and pedaling away. "To be this concerned, he must feel very deeply about her, Matt."

"What he feels is guilt," Matt predicted flatly, getting out of the car, "and responsibility. Zack always took his responsibilities very seriously." As they started up the sidewalk, two little boys in wheelchairs came shooting out the side door and down a ramp onto the driveway, howling with laughter, with a pretty young woman in hot pursuit.

"Johnny!" she called, laughing too as she raced after the child, "give that back!" The boy called Johnny executed a nifty wheelie on the driveway, waving a spiral-bound notebook in the air, keeping it just out of

her reach, while his companion neatly used his own wheelchair to run interference for him. Matt and Meredith stopped, watching the exuberant interplay as a laughing Julie Mathison tried unsuccessfully to outmaneuver the boys' joint defense.

"All right," Julie called, plunking her fists on her hips, unaware of her adult visitors, "you win, you monsters! No quiz tomorrow. Now give back my grade book." With a triumphant shout, Johnny handed

over the book. "Thank you," Julie said, taking it and affectionately yanking his knit cap down over his ears and eyes while he laughed and shoved it up. She bent down in front of the other grinning boy and zipped his jacket up under his chin, then she rumpled his red hair. "You're getting awfully good with those blocking maneuvers Tim. Don't forget them in the game next Saturday, okay?"

"Okay, Miss Mathison."

Julie turned to watch them wheel off down the driveway, and that was when she saw the well-dressed

couple standing near the curb in front of her house.

They started forward, and Julie wrapped her arms around herself in the chilly wind, smiling politely as she waited for them, thinking that they both looked vaguely familiar in the deepening twilight.

"Miss Mathison," the man said, returning her smile with one of his own, "I'm Matthew Farrell, and this is

my wife, Meredith." At close range, Meredith Farrell was as beautiful as her husband was handsome, as blond as he was dark, and her smile was just as warm as his.

"Are you alone?" he asked, glancing toward the house.

Julie stiffened with alarmed suspicion. "Are you reporters? Because if you are, I've—"

"I'm a friend of Zack's," he interrupted quietly.

Julie's heart slammed into her ribs. "Please," she said quickly, reeling with shock and excitement, "come inside."

She took them in the back door, through her kitchen where copper pots and pens hung from pegs on the
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wall and into the living room.

"This is very pretty," Meredith Farrell said, relinquishing her coat and looking around at the airy room

with its white wicker furniture, bright green and blue plaid pillows, and potted trees and plants thriving in the corners

Julie tried to smile, but as she took Matt's coat, she blurted desperately, "Is Zack all right?"

"As far as I know, he's fine."

She relaxed a little, but it was hard to be a polite hostess when all she wanted to know was why they'd come, and at the same time she wanted desperately to prolong their visit because Matt Farrell was his friend, and in a way, that brought Zack right here, into her house. "Would you like a glass of wine or some coffee?" she asked over her shoulder as she hung their coats in her front closet and they sat down on the sofa.

"Coffee would be lovely," the woman said, and her husband nodded.

Julie made coffee in record time, put cups and saucers on a tray, and returned to the living room so quickly that both her guests smiled at her, as if they understood and appreciated her dilemma. "I'm awfully nervous for some reason," she admitted with a choked laugh, putting the tray on the table in front of them and rubbing her palms against her thighs.

"But I'm … I'm very glad you've come. I'll get the coffee as soon as it's ready."

"You weren't a bit nervous," Matt Farrell remarked admiringly, "when you confronted the world on television and tried, very successfully, I think, to sway them into Zack's corner."

The warmth in his eyes and voice made her feel as if she'd done something wonderful and courageous. "I hope all Zack's friends feel that way."

"Zack doesn't have many friends anymore," he said flatly. "On the other hand," he added with a slight smile, "with a champion like you behind him, he doesn't
need
many friends."

"How long have you known him?" Julie asked as she sat down in a chair at right angles to the sofa.

"Meredith has never met him, but I've known him for eight years. We were neighbors in California, in Carmel." Matt watched her lean slightly forward, her attention riveted on him, and sensing her wish to learn everything she possibly could from him, he added, "We were also limited partners in several business ventures. When he went to prison, Zack entrusted me with his power of attorney, which gave me the right and responsibility to handle all his financial affairs."

"It's wonderful of you to take all that on," she said graciously, and Matt caught his first glimpse of the rare, unaffected warmth she must have shown to Zack when he most needed it in Colorado. "He must like and respect you very much to trust you so completely."

"We feel the same way about each other," he replied awkwardly, wishing there were some way to ease into the purpose for his visit.

"And that's why you came here from California—"

she suggested helpfully, "because as Zack's friend, you wanted me to know you approved of what I said during the press conference?"

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Matt shook his head, stalling by digressing to minor details. "We only vacation in Carmel now," he explained. "Our permanent residence is Chicago."

"I think I'd prefer Carmel, although I've never been there," she responded, following his lead and switching to polite small talk.

"We live in Chicago because Meredith is president of Bancroft & Company, which is headquartered there."

"Bancroft's!" Julie exclaimed, impressed by the mention of the elite department store chain and smiling at

Meredith. "I've been to your Dallas store and it's wonderful," she said, refraining from saying it was also

much too expensive for her. Standing up, she said,

"I'll get the coffee, it should be ready by now."

When she left, Meredith touched her husband's sleeve and said softly, "She's already sensed that you've

come here for a purpose, and the longer you delay, the more nervous you'll make her."

"I'm not exactly eager to get down to business," Matt admitted. "I've come a thousand miles at Zack's request to ask her bluntly if she's pregnant and pay her off with his check. You tell me a subtle way to say, 'Miss Mathison, I've brought you a check for a quarter of a million dollars because Zack is afraid you're pregnant and because he feels guilty about it and because he wants you to pay a lawyer to hold off the press and the legal authorities.'"

She started to suggest a more obvious and more tactful way to go about it, but before she could speak,

Julie returned with a china coffeepot and began filling their cups.

Matt cleared his throat and began in a blunt, awkward voice, "Miss Mathison—"

"Please call me Julie," she interrupted, straightening, automatically tensing at his tone.

"Julie," he agreed with a slight, grim smile, "I haven't actually come here because of your press conference. I'm here because Zack asked me to come and see you."

Her face lit up like sunshine bursting out of the clouds. "He—he did? Did he tell you why?"

"He wants me to find out if you're pregnant."

Julie knew she wasn't, and she was so startled and embarrassed by the unexpected topic that she started to shake her head in denial before Meredith came to her rescue. "Matt has a letter to give you that will probably do a much better job of explaining all this than my flustered husband is doing," she said gently.

Julie watched him reach into an inside pocket of his sport jacket and extract an envelope. Feeling as if the world was beginning to spin and tilt around her, she took it from his outstretched hand and said shakily, "Would you mind if I read this letter now—

in private?"

"Not at all. We'll enjoy our coffee while you do."

Julie nodded and turned. Quickly opening the envelope with her thumb, she started out of the living

room, intending to go to her room, but the dining room was closer so she went there instead, neither caring nor realizing she was still partially in view of her guests. She braced herself for another condescending lecture from Zack about the infantile absurdity of giving any importance to their relationship in Colorado, but when she unfolded the pages and began to read, the tenderness and joy that
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exploded in her heart healed all her wounds. The world fell away and all that existed for her was the unbelievable words she was reading and the incredible man who had written them to her without ever

intending for her to see them…

My darling Julie, I know you'll never see this letter, but it helps to write to you every day. It keeps you close to me. God, I miss you so. You haunt every hour of my life. I wish I'd never met you. No—I don't

mean that! What good would my life be without my memories of you to make me smile.

I keep wondering if you're happy. I want you to be. I want you to have a glorious life. That's why I couldn't say the things I knew you wanted to hear when we were together. I was afraid if I did, you'd wait for me for years. I knew you wanted me to say I loved you. Not saying that to you was the only unselfish thing I did in Colorado, and now I regret even that.

I'd give up all my life to have one year with you. Six months. Three. Anything.

You stole my heart in just a few days, darling, but you gave me your heart, too. I know you did—I could see it in your eyes every time you looked at me.

I don't regret the loss of my freedom any more or rage at the injustice of the years I spent in prison.

Now, my only regret is that I can't have you. You're young, and I know you'll forget about me quickly and go on with your own life. That's exactly what you should do. It's what you must do. I want you to do

that, Julie.

That's such a lousy lie. What I really want is to see you again, to hold you in my arms, to make love to you over and over again until I've filled you so completely that there's no room left inside of you for anyone but me, ever. I never thought of sexual intercourse as 'making love' until you. You never knew

that.

Sometimes I break out in a cold sweat because I'm afraid I got you pregnant. I know I should have told you to abort my baby if I did get you pregnant. I knew it in Colorado, but God, I didn't want you to, Julie.

Wait—I just thought of a solution that never occurred to me before. I know I have no right to ask you to

have my baby, but there's a way to work it out, if you're only willing: You could take a leave of absence

and go away—I'll see that you have plenty of money to compensate for what you lose from your job and to pay all your expenses. Then when the baby is born, I'd like you to take it to my grandmother. If you're

pregnant and you're willing to do this for me, I'll write to her in advance and explain about everything. For

all her shortcomings, the woman has never turned away from a responsibility in her life, and she'll see that

our baby is properly raised. She has control of what would have been a very large inheritance of mine; a tiny part of that inheritance will be more than enough to pay for all the baby's expenses and education.

You were right when you said I shouldn't have closed the door on my family and burned my bridges.

There were things I could have told my

grandmother, even after I left home, that would have neutralized

her hatred. You were right when you said that I loved and admired her when I was growing up. You were right about everything, and if I could change things now, I would.

I've decided to send this letter to you after all. It's a mistake. I know it is, but I can't stop myself. I have to tell you what to do if you're pregnant. I can't bear the thought that you won't realize there's an alternative to an abortion.

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They may be watching your mail, so I'm going to have this letter brought to you instead of using the post

office. The man who gives this to you is a friend.

He's putting himself in jeopardy for me, just as you did.

Trust Matt as completely as you'd trust me. Tell him if you're pregnant and what you want to do so he can relay it to me. One more thing, before I hurry to get this to the village in time for the weekly pickup—I want you to have some money for

whatever you need or want. The money Matt will give you

is mine, so there's no point in arguing with him about taking it. He'll be acting on my instructions, and he'll

follow them to the letter, so don't give the man a hard time, sweetheart. I have plenty of money for my

own needs.

I wish I had time to write you a better letter or that I'd kept one of the others I've written so I could send that instead. They were all much more coherent than this one. I won't send another letter to you, so don't watch for one. Letters will make us both hope and dream, and if I don't stop doing that, I will die of wanting you.

Before I go—I see from the newspapers that Costner has a new movie coming out in the States. If you dare to start fantasizing over Kevin after you see it, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.