Authors: Debbie Macomber
Someday Soon (2 page)
His grip tightened, and she trembled. Pulling her flush against him, he felt her breath moisten the column of his neck. The tips of her breasts caressed his chest, and Cain closed his eyes and savored the feel of a woman in his arms. Linette clung to him, too. He realized, gratefully, that her hold on him was as tight as his on her.
He knew what was happening. He could spend a few hours with this woman who was lovely and pure and forget who and what he was. He could relish her softness and ignore the bitterness of the truth and the hard life he’d chosen.
All this wasn’t one-sided. Linette could hold him and forget the man she’d loved and lost. He was her haven just as she had become his.
As much as he’d like to deny it, Cain needed this woman’s touch. He was desperate for her gentleness. His heart, perhaps even his soul, needed this time with her.
The music ceased, but he kept moving. It felt too damn good to have her in his arms. Linette broke away from him, and for an instant he resisted, tightening his grip until he realized what he was doing.
Irritated with himself, he dropped his arms and stepped back. Linette Collins made him weak, and that was something he couldn’t allow.
“Thank you,” she said softly. She didn’t need to say it had been a long time since anyone had held her. He knew. This wasn’t the kind of woman who bed-hopped. She’d deeply grieved the loss of her husband. Cain also knew she’d grieved alone, without seeking the solace of a lover.
In one way, Cain envied her husband. There would be
no one to mourn his passing. No one to stand over his cemetery plot and weep. That was the life he had chosen. The way it had to be. There was no room for gentleness in his life. Not now, not ever. Not if he planned to survive. And he did.
For what?
The question came at him like the pinpoint beam of a laser slicing through his mind. All at once he hadn’t a clue why he found it so damned important to stay alive. He had no immediate family. No heirs.
As far as money went, he could retire now and it would take two lifetimes to spend what he’d accumulated in the last several years with Deliverance Company.
By tacit agreement, he and Linette wandered back to the party, which seemed to be in full swing. Without a word, they went their separate ways. Which was for the best, Cain reasoned. Linette was a sweet thing and deserved happiness. It wasn’t likely she’d find that with him. By nipping this attraction in the bud, he was doing her a kindness.
Cain caught sight of Nancy and Rob dancing on the other side of the room. Small clusters of groups were involved in chitchat, something at which he felt completely inept. With little more than a backward glance, he retrieved his coat and left. Later, he’d send Rob and Nancy a Christmas card and thank them for the party. He was half tempted to mention meeting Linette, then decided against it.
In the hallway outside, waiting for the elevator, he sensed someone’s approach. It shouldn’t have surprised him to find Linette rounding the corner, but it did. She seemed startled as well, and her round eyes widened.
“So we meet again,” he said.
When the elevator arrived, they stepped aboard together. He pushed the button for the lobby. Stepping back, he studied the woman who stood before him. Within a matter of seconds, they would each go back to their separate lives.
Cain experienced a sense of desperation that was foreign to him. Even worse, he felt like a world-class fool. If Mallory knew what he was thinking, or Murphy, Bailey, or Jack, either, they’d lock him up until this bout of insanity had passed. Men like Cain simply did not become involved with women like Linette Collins.
On the ground floor, Cain watched Linette hurry across the street and climb inside her car. He stood rooted, unwilling and unable to move as her Toyota turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
After a moment he drew in a deep breath, then headed toward the rental car he’d picked up at the airport three days earlier.
His name was Cain, and right then he felt aptly christened. His namesake had been the son of Adam and Eve. The first child born outside the gates of paradise.
Linette was busy at her shop
early Saturday morning when the phone rang. Although she wasn’t due to open for another half hour, she reached for the receiver and tucked it between her ear and her shoulder as she unloaded skeins of brightly colored cashmere wool.
“Wild and Wooly,” she said automatically.
“I wish you hadn’t left the party so early,” Nancy mumbled on the tail end of a yawn. It was apparent she had recently rolled out of bed.
“I had to be to the shop this morning,” Linette explained. She hadn’t slept well, but only because she couldn’t stop thinking about Cain McClellan and the short time they’d been together. She toyed hesitantly with the idea of asking her sister-in-law what she could tell her about Cain. So much as a hint of curiosity about the other man might prove to be potentially embarrassing.
Nancy was sure to make something out of Linette’s inquisitiveness.
If Linette were a little more sophisticated, a little more at ease with the opposite sex, she might have found a subtle way of quizzing Cain himself. She hadn’t because he hadn’t seemed keen on talking about himself. What questions she had asked had received answers that were evasive and vague. She’d noticed how he’d quickly turned the conversation to subjects away from anything personal.
She knew he was in the military. Nancy had told her that much when she’d first mentioned him. Linette speculated that his work was involved with intelligence. Probably top-secret stuff that prevented him from discussing details. Funny she could spend so short a time with him and feel as if she understood him.
Like her, he was alone. Like her, he needed someone to hold.
In the entire two-year period without Michael, Linette had never felt more alone than she did now. At first she’d assumed it was because the anniversary of his death was approaching, but gradually she realized it was the Christmas season itself.
“Did you enjoy the party?” Nancy asked, cutting into her thoughts.
“Very much.” Thanks to Cain. Forcing her attention back to Nancy, she asked, “How did everything go with Rob’s boss and his wife?”
“Great. They’re nice people,” Nancy said, and then, turning to the apparent reason for her call, she added, “Didn’t I see you talking with Rob’s friend?”
“Yes, we found each other despite your and Rob’s best
efforts to keep us apart,” Linette said with a small smile.
“I saw the two of you one minute and the next thing I knew you’d both disappeared.” Linette pictured Nancy jiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“We left. Cain’s not much of a party person either.”
“So you snuck off together,” Nancy said, her voice dipping with implication. “That’s great.”
Before Linette could correct her sister-in-law’s impression, Nancy spoke again. “How about the two of us getting together for lunch this afternoon? That way you can tell me all about you and Cain, and I’ll let you in on my own little secret.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Linette protested. “Besides, I don’t know if I can get away. The shop’s been terribly busy, and I don’t feel like I can leave Bonnie alone, especially on a Saturday.” It sounded as if she were hedging, but what she said was true. Since this was the last weekend before Christmas, it could possibly be the busiest day of the year for her shop. Lunch would consist of a bite or two of a sandwich between customers.
“I’ll pick up something and bring it to you, then,” Nancy argued. “I’m dying to hear what happened between you and Cain McClellan.”
“But, Nancy—”
“Don’t argue. I must say, he’s a hunk.”
“But—” Before Linette could explain it might be a wasted trip, Nancy had hung up.
Replacing the telephone receiver, Linette sank onto the chair by the cash register. She loved Nancy and deeply appreciated the support and love Michael’s sister had given her, but she didn’t want to discuss Cain McClellan.
He’d come into her life briefly, and it was unlikely they’d meet again. Ships passing in the night and that sort of thing. He was a man without an anchor, and she was a dock. A concrete dock. Stable, permanent, lasting. Even if they had struck up a relationship, it would be a long-distance one. He’d told her himself he was only in town for a few days.
Linette’s prediction about this being the busiest sales day of the year proved to be accurate. From the moment she unlocked the door, she was inundated with customers. Many of the handcrafted items she’d knitted over the autumn months had already sold, but the limited number of wool scarves and baby blankets left were gone by ten that morning.
“Has it been like this every Christmas?” Bonnie asked, sinking onto the chair and removing her left shoe. She rubbed her toes and mumbled something about getting what she deserved for wearing new shoes.
“I don’t remember,” Linette said.
“Linette,” Bonnie said, and exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. I forgot. It was Christmastime when your husband died, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Linette said quickly, not wanting to discuss Michael. She liked Bonnie, who was in her mid-fifties and grandmotherly with short gray hair and a thick waist. Her face was round and warmly hospitable. It helped that Linette’s lone employee had been knitting for years herself and was knowledgeable about the craft. Linette felt lucky to have her.
The bell above the door jingled, and Bonnie automatically replaced her shoe. “I’ll get it,” Linette said, pressing her hand against her employee’s forearm. “Pour yourself
a cup of coffee,” she said. “You deserve it.” They’d been so busy, neither of them had taken time for a coffee break.
“You’re sure?” Bonnie asked, glancing longingly toward the back room.
“I’ll be fine.”
Linette realized she’d spoken too soon. This latest customer was Nancy. “You’re not the least bit busy,” her sister-in-law admonished.
“You should have been here ten minutes ago,” Linette countered. She straightened a row of white wool, replacing it inside a brightly painted wood bin stacked beneath a large picture window overlooking Fisherman’s Wharf. Linette loved the view the window afforded her. With its colorful fishing fleet, the wharf reminded her of a quaint Mediterranean seaport. There’d been plenty of times when she’d gazed out this very window, transported to a world outside her grief.
“I brought goodies,” Nancy said, holding up a grease-stained brown paper sack. “The deli packed us sandwiches and enormous dill pickles.”
“I didn’t think you liked dill pickles.”
“I don’t,” Nancy said casually, “unless I’m pregnant.”
It took Linette far longer than it should have to make the connection. “You and Rob are having a baby?”
Nancy’s eyes brightened with tears, and she nodded enthusiastically. “I didn’t want to say anything until after Christmas, but I can’t keep it a secret any longer. We’d almost given up trying. Christopher’s eight, and we were beginning to think we couldn’t have more children when, whammo.” She tossed her arm into the air, grinning broadly. “Another rabbit bit the dust.”
The two women hugged, and to her surprise Linette felt tears filling her own eyes. She knew Nancy and Rob wanted another child, but neither one had mentioned a baby in so long that she wasn’t sure what they’d decided.
A baby.
She and Michael had yearned for children, but early in their marriage they’d decided to wait a couple of years. Every aspect of their lives together had been carefully planned. All too soon, however, Michael had been diagnosed with leukemia. Afterward everything had changed. The days came and went, the seasons ebbed and flowed and every sunrise had become a sunset as Michael’s life became consumed with dying.
“Be happy for me,” Nancy said, hugging her close.
“Of course I’m happy,” Linette said, wondering at Nancy’s apprehensions.
“It’s just that…well, I know how badly you and Michael wanted a child, and I guess I was afraid you might feel like you’d been cheated.”
“How could I possibly feel cheated, having loved Michael? I’m sorry we didn’t have children, but I’d never begrudge you and Rob your happiness. I’m thrilled for you both.”
“Thank you,” Nancy said, rubbing the moisture from her face. Her shoulders shook, and it took a moment for Linette to realize Nancy was laughing, not weeping.
“I cry so easily lately. Rob doesn’t know what to make of me.”
Knowing how Rob idolized his wife, Linette strongly suspected he’d think he’d married the most perfect woman in the world no matter what she said or did. Especially now.
Bonnie wandered out from the back room, bringing a freshly brewed cup of coffee with her.
“Bonnie, do you think I can steal Linette away for a few minutes?” Nancy asked, and looped her arm through Linette’s.
“Might as well,” Bonnie said with an agreeable smile. “We seem to be experiencing something of a lull, but I don’t expect it to last long.”
Linette led the way into the back room, which was stacked with empty boxes, most of the skeins of yarn having been sold even before the boxes had had a chance to be emptied.
A badly scarred wooden table stood against the concrete block wall with two equally dilapidated chairs. Linette couldn’t remember where they’d found the set, but it had been a welcome addition to their small space.
Nancy claimed the ladder-back chair while Linette scrounged up paper plates and two clean coffee mugs.
Nancy drew out thick sandwiches from the brown paper sack. They were subways covered in wax paper and held together with large toothpicks, with gaily decorated tops.
“Did I mention my appetite’s improved?” Nancy said, smiling gleefully at Linette. “Pickles aren’t the only thing I find appealing. I swear if this continues, I’ll resemble the Goodyear blimp by July.”
Linette inspected her half of the sandwich and discovered three different kinds of meat and an equal number of cheeses, plus the usual lettuce, thick slices of tomato, and a variety of other goodies, including sliced green olives.
“All right, tell me about you and Cain,” Nancy instructed now that she was settled.
“I already explained there isn’t much to tell,” Linette said. Juice ran down her forearm when she took her first bite of the dill pickle.
“I saw the two of you together, remember?” Nancy insisted. “And then you were gone. Where did you take off to?”
“Nowhere. We rode down in the elevator together and went our separate ways.”
“That’s all?” Nancy sounded terribly disappointed.
“What do you know about him?” Linette asked, her curiosity overriding her hesitation. She would have preferred to keep any inquisitiveness low key and any questions indirect. Linette feared Nancy would leap on Linette’s interest in Cain and make something out of it that it wasn’t.
“Rob and Cain attended high school together.”
That much Linette knew.
“Cain went into the military after graduation. From what Rob said, he’s only talked to Cain twice in the last twenty years. The first time was about a year or so after Rob was out of college. Cain phoned him and they chatted. Apparently he was a member of the Special Forces and had spent a good deal of time in Asia.”
“Asia?” Linette repeated slowly.
“That’s what Rob said. When I quizzed him, he couldn’t recall much more of their conversation, which is understandable seeing that it was several years back. Apparently some of their friends have asked about Cain over the years, but no one’s heard from him. When it came time for their class reunion, no one had an address for him. Apparently Rob’s the only one he’s kept in contact with from his high school days.
“When Cain phoned last week, Rob was thrilled. The two met for lunch, but Rob said Cain skillfully managed to steer the conversation away from himself.”
“He did that with me, too.”
“From what little Rob was able to glean, Cain’s involved in some kind of undercover activity that consists of rescuing political hostages.”
A chill raced up Linette’s back.
“You’d think he’d be ready to retire soon. He’s got in twenty years or more by now.”
He wasn’t ready. Linette hadn’t a clue how she knew that, but she did. Cain was a man who enjoyed living on the edge, who felt a rush of excitement when he could look danger in the face and not blink.
“He didn’t ask to see you again?” Nancy spoke as if she suspected Linette were holding back vital information.
“No.” Cain McClellan had come into her life like the softest of whispers and disappeared before she’d had the opportunity to decipher his message.
Cain knew Francine Holden was the perfect physical therapist for Tim Mallory the moment he laid eyes on her. He also knew Mallory wouldn’t agree with him. The highly recommended therapist was a no-nonsense professional who wouldn’t put up with any of his friend’s usual guff. If Francine Holden was only half as good as Dr. Benton claimed, his colleague had a chance of regaining the use of his right leg. Something that had seemed impossible eighteen months earlier.
It wouldn’t be easy, but then nothing in his business ever was. Thank God Mallory was a fighter. If not, he
would have died in a Nicaraguan jungle. Francine wasn’t a shy, retiring soul whom Mallory would easily intimidate with his temper tantrums and wildly swinging moods.
“Dr. Benton recommended you highly for the job,” he said to the woman who sat across from him. Sitting didn’t disguise her height. Cain guessed she was close to six feet, with a build that resembled that of a weight lifter. She’d need strength if she was going to be lifting Mallory around. Francine wore her long blond hair in a French braid that stretched halfway down the middle of her back. Her eyes were blue and wide, by far her most striking feature, set deep in a face that was remarkably plain.
“May I see your friend’s latest X rays?” she asked, ignoring his compliment. When Cain handed them to her, she held the first set up to the light. “How’d this happen?” she asked.
Cain weighed how much he should tell her and decided he’d be doing them both a disservice with anything less than the truth. “The damage to the knee and hip are the result of a booby trap.”
“Booby trap? You mean as in a land mine?”
“Something like that.” Cain shifted back on his chair and crossed his legs. “We were in Central America at the time, on a mission.”