Grady’s mouth twitched in a series of expressions, curling his lips. “What are you doing?” she asked, with an exaggerated breath.
“I’m practicing looking like I’m in love.”
Laughter burst from Cathy, shaking her shoulders. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”
His eyes smiled into hers. “This isn’t easy, meeting your mother and all. Mothers-in-law and I don’t have a fantastic track record.”
It was the first time Grady had mentioned Pam’s mother. “You don’t need to worry,” she attempted to assure him, “you’ll like my mother. We’re a lot alike.” More than Grady knew. They both had chosen the same kind of men to marry.
Seeing a plane approach from the runway below, Cathy stood. “That’s Mom’s flight, right on time.” Her heart beat excitedly as she placed her hand in the crook of Grady’s arm.
Grady straightened, brushing imaginary lint from his jacket. “How do I look?”
“A little rough around the edges, but you’ll do.”
“I better,” he murmured, in a low growl.
Watching her mother descend from the airplane steps, Cathy had to fight the urge to wave. Her mother was unlikely to see her from outside the building; nonetheless, she stood on tiptoes, raising her hand in greeting.
Her mother paused, looking over her shoulder. Cathy felt the blood rush out of her face, and for a crazy moment she thought she might faint. Following Paula Thompson out of the plane were Steve and MaryAnne.
Chapter Seven
“Cathy.” Paula Thompson hugged her daughter tightly, patting her back. “You look marvelous.”
MaryAnne’s arms circled her sister next, holding her as if it had been years instead of months since Cathy had moved to Alaska. Patting her flat stomach, she asked with a good-natured laugh, “Can you tell I’m pregnant?”
“Of course.” By some miracle, Cathy managed to keep her voice level.
Steve moved forward, expecting the same greeting she had given her mother and sister. Removing herself from his reach, she turned and looped an arm into Grady’s. “Mom, MaryAnne, Steve, this is Grady Jones, my soon-to-be husband.” She managed to avoid eye contact with Steve, but a feeling of cold dread raced through her. Why was he here? What did he hope to accomplish?
Formal greetings were exchanged between her family and Grady. Although her mother’s expression was friendly, Cathy was quick to note the worry in her slightly narrowed blue eyes. Her mother knew her best of all, and it would take more than reassuring words to fool this woman.
“I understand you own your own business?” Paula Thompson asked Grady.
Undoubtedly her mother had been mulling over the question ever since Cathy had phoned and told her about the wedding. Like any mother, Cathy realized, hers didn’t want to have a daughter repeat the mistakes she had made.
“Listen,” Cathy interrupted, “let’s go to the house and have coffee. I know Angela is anxious to meet everyone.” The remainder of her things had been moved into Grady’s house that morning. With the wedding scheduled for noon the next day, it made more sense to spend the night in a hotel with her mother than to pay rent on an empty house.
“You should have brought Angela with you,” her mother admonished gently. “I think I’m fortunate to receive a built-in granddaughter,” she added.
“She’s a bit shy,” Cathy explained, looking to Grady. “We both felt she’d be more comfortable meeting you in familiar surroundings.”
Cathy gave her mother’s waist a tiny squeeze, silently expressing her appreciation for her easy acceptance of the little girl.
As they headed down the terminal to retrieve the luggage, Grady leaned over and whispered, “You can let go of my arm now. I think the circulation’s been cut off.”
“Oh, sorry,” she murmured, and relaxed her hold.
“Is everything okay?” he questioned, his voice laced with concern. “You look pale all of a sudden. You’re not getting those pre-wedding jitters, are you?”
“Of course.” She tried to laugh it off. “Every woman does.” A husky defensiveness remained in her voice, and she felt Grady’s piercing gaze study her.
* * *
The minute Steve walked in the door, Peterkins went wild. Barking excitedly, he raced around the room in several wide loops, leaping from the couch to the chair and back down to the carpet before vaulting into Steve’s waiting arms.
Crouched to the floor, Steve gave the spaniel his full attention. “You remember me, do you, boy?” Ruffling the long, black ears, he accepted as his due Peterkins’s adoration.
Uncomfortably aware of Grady’s eyes following her, Cathy ignored the unspoken questions he seemed to be hurling at her.
“I get quite a different reception from Cathy’s dog,” Grady commented after Peterkins had calmed down. Cathy wasn’t fooled by the veiled interest.
“Peterkins and I go way back, don’t we, boy?” Steve directed his attention to the dog before he turned and smiled boldly at Cathy.
Her legs turned to Jell-O, and she sat with her mother, Angela positioned between them. She wanted to shout at Steve to leave her alone. Couldn’t he see how difficult this situation was for her? Had he always been so selfish, so uncaring? Cathy had wondered how she’d react to Steve if she saw him again. Now that he was here, in the same room, and they were separated by only a few feet, she felt embarrassed, uneasy.
Her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of a muscle that jerked in Grady’s harsh features as he stood and sauntered to the fireplace. He placed another log on the already roaring fire.
“I gave Cathy the dog,” Steve explained.
“That was a long time ago,” she qualified hurriedly.
“Not that long ago,” Steve contradicted. He was toying with her, in a cat-and-mouse game. She wanted to scream at him to stop. It was almost as if Steve wanted to make her as uncomfortable as possible, punish her for marrying Grady, hurt her further.
Her mother was busy making friends with Angela. She sat beside the little girl, an arm draped over her thin shoulders, and told her bits and pieces of information about Kansas. MaryAnne, feeling tired, had gone to rest in the spare bedroom for a few minutes.
Apart from a few whispers coming from Angela and Paula Thompson, the room seemed to crackle with an electric tension.
Grady came to stand behind Cathy, and he placed his hands on her shoulders, staking claim to his ownership. Cathy bit into a quivering lip, praying Steve would accept the unspoken message.
In that instant, he caught her eyes. A lazy, knowing grin deepened the creased lines at the sides of his mouth. Steve knew. He knew how confused she was and planned to use it against her.
Cathy closed her eyes to the rush of bitterness and sucked in a stabbing breath. With a determined effort she forced herself to lift a hand and place it on top of Grady’s. Her eyes were imploring Steve to accept her decision. But one glance at the narrowed anger flashing at her and Cathy realized he would ignore her entreaty now. Just as he’d done the day of his wedding.
Making an excuse to check on MaryAnne, Cathy stood and moved slowly down the hallway to the bedroom. As quietly as possible, she cracked the door, not wanting to disturb her sister unnecessarily.
“Is that you, Steve?” The weak voice came from across the room.
“No, it’s Cathy. You go ahead and rest.” Just as quietly, she moved to close the door.
“Don’t go.” MaryAnne sat up in bed and motioned for Cathy to join her. Raising her arms high above her head, she stretched and released a wide yawn. “It’s crazy how tired I get.” She placed a protective hand on her abdomen, gently patting at the slight roundness there. “This little one seems to think I should spend my life sleeping. Mom said it was the same with her.”
Cathy sat on the end of the bed. “You’re happy about this baby, aren’t you?”
“Oh yes,” she said, and breathed in fervently. Tears shimmered in her deep gray eyes, and a delicate finger wiped them away. “Look at me,” she
said, with a shaky laugh. “I cry so easy. Just wait until you’re pregnant, Cath. I’m so emotional lately. I don’t know how Steve puts up with me.”
“Has he been understanding?”
MaryAnne nodded eagerly. “I can’t tell you how great he’s been about everything. Are you and Grady planning on a family?”
The question took Cathy by surprise. She didn’t know; they’d never discussed it. “Not right away.” Her fingers nervously traced the flower pattern of the bedspread. “We’ll wait awhile.”
“Don’t wait too long,” MaryAnne advised solemnly. “I don’t think a man can love you any more than when you’re carrying his child.”
A searing pain shot through Cathy, and she bit her tongue to keep from crying out at the intensity of its force. Did Steve love her sister? Truly love her? Had his feelings changed once he realized MaryAnne was pregnant? He hadn’t known about the baby when he wrote the letter. The letter. A hundred times she’d regretted burning it. She would never have Steve, but she could have had the confirmation of his love for her. In her agony, she had destroyed that.
Silently, he entered the room behind her, and for a second Cathy thought her mind had conjured up his image. Gently she shook her head to force herself into reality. Desperately she wanted to hate the virile man that walked to his wife’s side. Instead, she felt only a deep, undying love. Before she betrayed herself, Cathy made an excuse and left.
Paula Thompson met her outside the bedroom door. “I’m going to freshen up a bit. Grady said something about our all leaving for dinner, and I want to redo my makeup.”
“I’ll see if Angela needs anything,” Cathy said, avoiding looking directly at her mother.
“Cathy.” A hand on her sleeve stopped her. “I like Grady, but I don’t mind telling you I’ve been very worried about you.”
Cathy’s pulse rate soared to double time. Had her mother guessed her true feelings for Grady? “Why?” She strived to sound incredulous as she walked into the bathroom with her mother and sat on the toilet seat as Paula Thompson washed her face.
“You’ve been in Alaska such a short time. Are you sure of your feelings for Grady?”
“Honestly, Mom.” She laughed lightly, handing her a fresh towel. “Of course I am.” The words slipped out without thought. Naturally, she knew how she felt about Grady. But it wasn’t love.
“Stepping into a ready-made family has me concerned.”
“But I love Angela.”
“I can understand why. She’s a precious child.”
A smile parted Cathy’s soft mouth. Her mother was like this. Even when Cathy was a teenager, their most serious discussions were often done in the most unlikely places or under the silliest conditions. Once they had a terrible argument in the aisle of a grocery store about a boy Cathy was dating. Cathy guessed that her mother was uneasy bringing up the discussion and tried to do so in the most natural way possible.
“Probably the one thing that worries me the most is Grady’s business. I don’t want you married to a man like your father.” She didn’t need to elaborate.
Now it wasn’t easy to disguise her feelings. “Just because a man owns his own company doesn’t make him a workaholic.” Cathy stiffened and stood, easing her way around her mother in the small bathroom. “I know the signs.”
“Don’t make the mistakes I did.” Paula’s voice was soft in warning.
“I won’t.” Cathy prayed she sounded convincing as she left the room, silently closing the door.
Grady’s narrowed look sliced her as she entered the living room. She wasn’t fooled by the easygoing façade he had assumed in front of her family. He was angry. Cathy knew him well enough to take warning from the hard set of his jaw.
“You’re the one who looks pale all of a sudden.” The gaiety sounded forced. “Don’t tell me you’re getting pre-wedding jitters.” She tossed his own words back at him.
“No.” The word was clipped, impatient. The slant of his mouth didn’t suggest humor or a smile.
“Is something the matter?” A frown flickered across her face, drawing her delicate brows together.
“You tell me.”
Cathy hesitated, fighting the growing panic. Grady knew. With all the innuendos Steve had been hurling at him, it would be a miracle if he didn’t know. Dear Lord, how was she ever going to make it through the wedding? “I’m not up to playing guessing games with you. If you want to clear the air, that’s up to you,” she said in wary anger.
Grady rammed a hand through the thick, curly hair and walked to the fireplace, bracing a foot against the hearth. He turned, his eyes fiery, but the anger was quickly disguised.
Hands clenched in front of her, Cathy watched the transformation in Grady’s features and followed his gaze.
“Can I give Cathy the present now, Daddy?” Angela requested softly. “Remember, you said I could be the one to give it to her.”
He answered his daughter with a curt nod.
Angela skipped down the hall and returned a minute later with a brightly wrapped box. “Daddy said that its trad—” She stumbled over the word.
“Tradition.” Grady helped her out.
Angela shook her head, the soft curls bobbing with the action. “Daddy said it was tradition for the bribe to get a wedding gift from the groom.”
“Bride,” Grady corrected.
“This is yours. Daddy and I bought it together.” Proudly, she handed Cathy the small package.
Cathy’s eyes met his across the room. She hadn’t gotten him a gift. She wanted to apologize, make an excuse, but nothing seemed to make it past the lump of surprise growing in her throat.
“Go ahead, open it,” Angela encouraged. “I wanted to buy you a real pretty tea set, but Daddy said you needed this more.”
Slowly Cathy lowered herself to a sitting position, and almost immediately Angela joined her. It was obvious the child had wrapped the gift. It looked as if a whole roll of cellophane tape had been used. The bow was glued on top and the paper was twice the size needed.
“Do you want me to help you?” Angela volunteered, eagerly ripping away the pink bow.
The paper revealed a jeweler’s box. Cathy paused, glancing up at Grady.
“Go ahead, open it,” Angela urged. “Daddy said you needed one of these real bad.”
Returning her attention to the oblong velvet case, she gently lifted the lid. An expensive gold watch and intricate watchband stared back at her. A rush of pleasure and surprise shot her gaze to Grady. “It’s beautiful.” Silly tears filled her eyes, blurring the tall male figure across the room. “Thank you.”
“Daddy said you’d like it.” Angela sounded so proud. Cathy reached for her, hugging her close as a tear weaved a crooked path down her face. So many times over the past weeks Grady had teased her about her watch and her timekeeping methods. No gift could have been more perfect. No gift could have touched her more.
Suddenly, Grady was there, kneeling at her side. He took the case from her hand. “Let me help you put it on.”
Placing a hand on either side of his face, she turned his head toward her. Only a few inches of space separated them, but from the hard look in his eyes it could have been several miles.
“Thank you,” she repeated softly, and gently laid a tearstained cheek over his.
Grady emitted a low groan as he tilted his head slightly and unerringly located her mouth. The kiss was hard and deep, pressing his mouth against her teeth, grinding her lips. Cathy didn’t fight him, but remained passive under the brutal possession. There was pleasure with the pain, almost as if the pain were necessary for her to experience the pleasure.
“Do you still want to thank me?” He breathed the question against her throat.
“Yes.” Her response was so low Cathy barely heard herself speak.
“Is that the way people kiss all the time?” Angela queried.
Cathy had forgotten the little girl’s presence, as she was sure Grady had.
“Not always,”
Grady murmured, his voice faintly husky. He broke the contact, and Cathy marveled at his control. Outwardly, he appeared unmoved by their exchange, while she was left breathless and uncertain. He paused and unemotionally removed the watch from the black velvet case and placed it on her wrist.
“Throw the other one out,” he said in a jeering demand, stood, and stalked to the other side of the room.
Cathy understood what he was asking. He wanted her to throw away the past, to begin again. On shaking legs she stood, walked to his side at the fireplace, opened the screen, and carelessly tossed the old watch inside.
Grady’s arm circled her waist, bringing her close to his side. Cathy felt his harshly released breath against her hair.
* * *
Paula Thompson left the hotel room, kissing Cathy on the cheek and promising to meet her at the church. A tear sparkled in her mother’s eyes as the door closed with a soft clinking sound.
Dressed and ready, Cathy wore a close-fitting white wool suit. She had purchased it just as Linda suggested, without thought or concern, but now she realized that the outfit couldn’t have been more perfect.
Hauntingly beautiful was the term her mother had used. Haunting was the word Cathy would agree upon. Beautiful she wasn’t sure. She didn’t feel beautiful. Scared, tense, nervous, wanting to get this whole thing over as quickly as possible were the sensations that came to her. This should be the happiest day of her life, and she felt much as she had at her father’s funeral. With a deep sense of loss and fear of what the future would hold.
Someone knocked at the hotel room door. Cathy glanced at the new gold watch, thinking Linda and Dan were early. Not that it mattered. She was ready. Arrangements had been made for them to take her to the church.
Only it wasn’t Linda and Dan.
“Steve.” She breathed his name with a sense of unreality.
His look was haggard as he pushed his way past her into the room.
Her hand still on the doorknob, Cathy closed her eyes. Looking at him, seeing the torment in his eyes, knowing her own doubts were there for him to see, was almost more than she could bear. “Where’s MaryAnne?” Desperately, she hoped her sister’s name would be enough to bring him to his senses.
That Wintry Feeling (Debbie Macomber Classics) Page 10
