“Did anyone else know?” Heather asked.
“My father, you mean? The man she stepped out on six weeks before they were married? No. He didn’t know. She didn’t tell him the truth, either. He found out, though. We don’t have compatible blood types. That’s how I figured it out, too, but only six months ago. He figured it out years earlier but never said a word to me. I didn’t understand the divorce, why he pulled back from me. As far as I was concerned, he was my father.”
“I’m sorry, Adrienne,” Heather said. “It sounds as if you’ve had a lot to work through.”
“I know it could be worse. I truly do.” She touched another photograph of her mother, this time on a Paris street. “I sort of like being the product of my mother’s Paris fling with an up-and-coming American Foreign Service officer. She never would have married Vic. I see that now. They were two lions. They would have torn each other to pieces.”
Brody leveled his dark eyes on Adrienne. “Vic’s odd goings-on—”
“My doing. All of them, including the hang ups. I wasn’t trying to upset him or anything. I was torn, confused, trying to figure out if I was crazy and just wanted him to be my father or if he actually is my father. I’ve been sneaking around here, searching for clues. Proof. I didn’t want him to know.” She waved a hand. “The front door, though—that wasn’t me.”
“It was worn hardware,” Heather said.
“What about Rohan?” Brody asked.
She crumpled into tears and sank back onto her chair. “I got him when I was with Thad. You know about him, don’t you, Brody?” She waited for his curt nod before she continued. “It was one of those dumb impulsive things. I hoped Thad would want to stay with me if we had a puppy, but he didn’t. I couldn’t keep Rohan on my own, and I thought it was too much to ask Vic to have a puppy here.”
“You pretended to abandon him,” Brody said.
She nodded, sobbing now.
Heather noticed a muscle work in Brody’s tight jaw. “Adrienne, you have to tell Vic everything,” he said.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She wiped her tears with her fingertips. “I was about to tell him when I started sorting through these old photos. It all became real to me. What I’ve missed, what he’s missed. How deceitful I’ve been these past few months. Oh, Heather. I can’t believe I’ve withheld the truth from you all this time. You deserve a better friend.”
“I’m having a hard time being angry,” Heather said. “And I’m glad we’re friends.”
Vic entered the dining room from the hall. He was ashen, his breathing ragged, as if someone had just tried to strangle him. “You’re not responsible for anything your mother and I have done, Adrienne. Not any of it.”
She knocked over her chair as she jumped up. She ran out of the room, crying, begging everyone to leave her alone.
Vic winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “She and I are definitely related with the waterworks,” he said, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his lined cheeks.
* * *
Heather appreciated the burst of cold air when she finally headed out to her truck. She wished she hadn’t witnessed the deeply personal scene in the dining room, but the lines between friendship and business had been blurred from early on with her work out here. She’d hit it off with Adrienne the first time they’d met in December, and she’d always liked Vic Scarlatti. She’d never once considered his life would turn out to be this complicated.
“Heather,” he called to her from the back steps. “Hang on a second.” He crossed the driveway to her. “Thanks for waiting.” He wasn’t wearing a coat. He shivered, looking surprised, as if he suddenly remembered it was winter. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about all this. I don’t know what more to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, Vic.”
“I wonder if we should consider putting the renovations on hold. It’s a huge project, and now— I’m reeling, to be honest. I need time. Can you work with me on this?”
“Of course. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
He seemed barely to hear her. The wind blew through his gray hair. “Maybe I should sell this place. Maybe it’s too late for me, and all my plans and hopes and dreams were for a younger man. A different man, perhaps a man I never was.”
“I don’t know about that, Vic, but your house needs a certain amount of updating, regardless of anything else.”
He smiled. “Practical Heather. We could ditch luxuries like a sauna and wine cellar but keep necessities like a new heating system?”
“We could, but it’s never a good idea to make big decisions about a house when you’re in the throes of an emotional upheaval. You were never here with Adrienne’s mother, were you?” Heather immediately held up a hand. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“It’s okay. Sophia and I were together for a few days in Paris, and we’ve stayed in touch over the years. I’ve stayed in touch with Richard, too. I wouldn’t call either one a close friend, but I was happy to do what I could for Adrienne when she contacted me. Having her house-sit worked out for both of us. I never expected... I never saw any resemblance...” He broke off with a heavy sigh, the revelations of the day obviously weighing on him. “Neither Sophia nor Richard has ever been a guest here.”
Heather nodded without comment and pulled open her truck door.
“I’m not the man I thought I was,” Vic said half under his breath. “I’m a damn heel. I never asked Sophia... I never...” He seemed unable to continue.
“I’ll come by tomorrow, and we can go from there.”
“Thank you.”
He spun around and headed back to the house. Heather got in her truck and noticed her hands were trembling when she started the engine. Sloan & Sons had dealt with last-minute cancellations and major cutbacks of big projects and would handle whatever Vic decided to do, but she hoped he would continue—not just for her sake or even for his. She’d fallen in love with his quirky 1912 house on Echo Lake. She wanted to see it updated so that it could last another hundred years. If Vic abandoned renovations altogether, he’d be talking to a wrecking crew in another ten years. The place would be condemned. The opportunity to save it—to turn it into one of the gems of Knights Bridge—would have passed him by.
When she reached Thistle Lane, she went inside just long enough to change clothes and grab her ice skates. She needed to burn off her emotions. Witnessing Adrienne’s pain and embarrassment and Vic’s anguish—his gut-wrenching recognition that the daughter of an old friend was his daughter—had affected Heather to her core.
Then there was Brody.
She broke into a run as she crossed South Main onto the town common. It wasn’t smart to think about Brody Hancock. Watching him interact with Vic and Adrienne had reminded her that he wasn’t in Knights Bridge for any other reason besides helping a newly retired senior Foreign Service officer, a man like countless men and women he was dedicated to protecting.
He was a federal agent.
He wasn’t the kid who had played Risk with her brothers—who’d had some epic fight with them and left town, determined never to return.
Her young nephews waved to her from the skating rink. “Aunt Heather, Aunt Heather!” seven-year-old Aidan called to her. “Are you going to skate with us?”
“You have to, Aunt Heather,” five-year-old Tyler said.
She laughed and sat on a bench to change into her skates. “Yes, I’m going to skate with you.”
Brandon, their father, was with them. She decided to wait to mention the potential problems with the Scarlatti renovations. First things first, and right now, she needed to be with her family and friends.
“Mind if I join you?”
Heather reined in her reaction to the sound of Brody’s deep voice behind her. She glanced up at him and noted the pair of skates in his hands.
“It’s a public rink. You can skate anytime you want.”
He grinned. “Now, there’s a warm welcome.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” He came around the bench and sat next to her. “I thought I’d check on you and whisk you off to skate. Then I saw you on the common.”
“Like minds.”
“Sometimes.”
She introduced Brody to her nephews. They’d overheard their parents mention he was a federal agent and somehow were under the impression that meant he was a spy—not that they knew quite what a spy was. “Are you spying on Aunt Heather?” Aidan asked.
“Your aunt is going to help me remember how to skate,” Brody said. “How would that be? You can help, too.”
The boys loved the idea that a spy might not be able to skate. Tyler took Brody’s hand. “I’ll show you. You won’t fall.”
“I’ll help, too,” Aidan said, taking Brody’s other hand.
He skated off with the two boys, but his strides were strong and smooth.
Brandon eased in next to Heather. “Doesn’t look rusty, does he?”
“Not even a little.”
“Hell, Heather,” her third-eldest brother muttered.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“I only noted that his skating isn’t rusty.”
“Yeah. That’s not all you noted. Go on. Skate.”
Heather knew better than to keep protesting. She would only dig a deeper hole for herself. She tightened the ties on her skates and headed out onto the ice, the portable lights creating shadows as the January dark settled over the village. She greeted friends, slowly picking up her pace, making sure she had her balance and her mind was on skating and not wandering off to thoughts of her day on Echo Lake—or to watching strong, sure Brody Hancock skate with her nephews. They joined her, Aidan and Tyler claiming success in reminding their new friend how to skate. Brandon motioned to the boys from the bench—time for dinner and homework—and they reluctantly skated off, but not before turning care of Brody over to Heather.
He slid his arm around her waist. “Now you can be the one to keep me from falling.”
“And how would I manage that?”
“More ways than you know.” He leaned in close to her. “You can start by putting your arm around me.”
“Ah. Makes sense.” She eased her arm around him, noticing the firm muscles in his back, his warmth. “My brothers think I’m too trusting, you know.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Sometimes.”
“Maybe it’s better than thinking you’re going to step on a snake at every turn.”
“Is that what life is like for you?”
He didn’t answer as they skated around the perimeter of the rink. She was aware of her brother Eric arriving with his girlfriend, a local paramedic, but Heather didn’t pull away from Brody. There was no use pretending she wasn’t attracted to him. She had always known where she belonged, but right now she just wanted to be with him, a prospect that was straightforward and undeniable and felt right, but was also strangely unnerving.
They skated back to the bench. Brody showed her a text he’d received from Vic.
Rohan’s tearing up the back room. Adrienne’s packing. I’m drinking Scotch.
“Go, Brody.” Heather smiled. “I have a couple more chapters to go in The Scarlet Pimpernel.”
Fourteen
Heather finished The Scarlet Pimpernel and then stayed up watching a house-and-garden network show. By morning, she had a better grip on yesterday’s revelation about Vic and Adrienne if no better grip on her attraction to Brody. Anesthetizing herself last night hadn’t helped her dismiss the flutter in her stomach when she thought about them skating arm in arm. But it was madness. What would a man like Brody Hancock do in Knights Bridge? What would she do in his world?
Time to return to reality. No more fantasies, no more pretending something could be that couldn’t.
When she arrived at Vic’s, she half expected to find that Brody had left last night. With the mystery of Vic’s “incidents” solved, why would he stay? Instead, she spotted him down by the lake with Rohan.
A subdued Vic was at the kitchen with an untouched mug of coffee and plate of toast. “Adrienne cleared out at first light. She’s going to stay with friends in New York. I tried to talk her into staying here, but she wouldn’t listen to any arguments. She offered to take Rohan with her, but I insisted she leave him since she doesn’t have her own place.” He gave Heather a grim smile. “I’ll have to get those puppy training books, though.”
“This must be difficult for both of you.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I’m still all over the place with the renovations. I don’t know what the hell to do.”
“I’ll collect any odds and ends I’ve left here,” Heather said. “You’ll need to make some decisions, but I can give you some time.”
“Hours, days, weeks?”
She smiled. “Not weeks.”
“Unless I want to pay through the nose,” he said, not making it a question. “It’s okay. I’ll figure out what comes next. Right now I keep thinking...” He paused, clearing his throat. “I remember Sophia sent me a picture of Adrienne when she was three months old. You know that baby smile? No teeth, no problems.” He raked a hand over his head and swore under his breath. “It kills me. What I missed.”
“I’m sorry, Vic.”
“I was such a driven jackass back then. If I’d known Adrienne was mine...” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’d have walked away from her. I wouldn’t have. I know I wouldn’t have.”
Clearly he wasn’t convinced. “Is there anything I can do?” Heather asked.
He gave her a ragged smile. “Ignore my whining.”
She started into the mudroom. “We can talk paperwork once you figure out what you want to do. I won’t be long here.”
He nodded. “Right. Thanks.”
She noticed torn-up newspaper and a stolen throw pillow in Rohan’s bed. He was sprawled out, dead asleep. She left him and went down to the cellar. When she reached the workbench and turned on a light, she discovered a note under a hammer, handwritten in flowing cursive on three-holed notebook paper.
Dear Heather,
I’m sorry to leave without saying goodbye. Thank you for your friendship. Vic will come to his senses about the house. The sauna and wine cellar will be perfect. The wine list I developed is for real.
I wanted to hate him but I couldn’t. I can’t. He’s a good man. I hope he sees that. Right now we both need time...like a good wine.
Knights Bridge is a special place. You’re so lucky to know who you are and where you belong.
Your friend,
Adrienne
Biting back tears, Heather folded the note and tucked it in her vest pocket. She hadn’t bothered taking off her sweatshirt and vest since she didn’t plan to stay more than thirty minutes.
She heard heavy footfalls on the steep cellar steps. Too heavy to be Vic.
Brody joined her in the dusty corner. “Back in the cobwebs.”
“Better than snakes. No stiff muscles after ice-skating?”
He shook his head. “Your nephews took good care of me. Heather...”
“You’re heading out,” she said. “Now?”
“In a few minutes.”
“Vic’s going to be lonely. I noticed Rohan’s tearing things up in the mudroom.”
“He senses the emotions.”
“I imagine so.” Heather picked up a clipboard she’d left on the workbench. “Well, I should get rolling. It’s been good to see you again. Winters are long in Knights Bridge. Gossip over your return will get us clear through mud season. You
saw the raised eyebrows last night skating, didn’t you?”
“No,” he said. “And neither did you.”
“I assumed they were raised. I admit I was too busy trying to keep you from falling. I felt you teeter a few times.”
He smiled. “I didn’t teeter.”
“No way, huh?”
“I didn’t say that. Heather...” He slipped his arms around her. “What am I going to do about you?” Before she could get a decent breath, never mind respond, he lowered his mouth to hers. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want to stop.”
“Is that why you’re leaving?”
He didn’t answer as his mouth found hers. It wasn’t a gentle, lighthearted kiss this time. Not one to get it out of the way. He lifted her, tightening his hold on her. She threw her arms around him and opened her lips as their kiss deepened. He was going away, and she wasn’t holding back now. With tools, dust, grease and cobwebs in the cellar and Vic Scarlatti upstairs, there was no chance she and Brody would go too far.
But she wanted to, she realized. Oh, she wanted to.
Somehow he got his hands under her sweatshirt, vest and T-shirt and onto the small of her back. His hands were rough, the skin warm as he drew her against him. She could feel his arousal. Her head spun with a thousand different sensations, not any of them conflicting. Her mind, body and soul were one in wanting to make love to this man.
Now, here, anywhere.
He sat her on the workbench, whispered her name as he pulled back. He kissed her cheek, her forehead, as he slipped his hands out from under her clothes and skimmed them up her arms, into her hair.
Finally, he held her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “I expected a lot of things when I agreed to come back here, but I didn’t expect you.”
“You expected a crazed stalker and a bunch of mean-assed Sloans.”
His mouth twitched. “Something like that.”
Echo Lake Page 18
