Divided Hearts

by Susan R. Hughes

  “Sienna’s beyond thrilled to have a little cousin,” Laurel remarked from across the table. “Especially a little one she can mother. She hasn’t been able to talk about anything else since we told her. And it’s cheered her up; she misses her dad. Todd’s in the military and he’s been stationed in Cyprus for the last couple of months.”

  Faye set her tea cup on the table, turning to smile at Laurel. The adults were passing the warm afternoon more sedately, consuming the hot cross buns with rhubarb jam and Earl Grey tea. Faye found herself alone with Simon’s sister for the moment, while he took some dishes to the kitchen, and Mary went to retrieve the miniature tea set she’d bought for the girls.

  “It’ll be nice for Hannah, too,” Faye replied. “Her mother doesn’t have any siblings, so she’s had no cousins until now. She’s having a ball.” It occurred to Faye that she and Jenna had no garden at their apartment in which to hide Easter eggs for Hannah. They frequented the nearby parks and beaches, but even so, she had to admit that Simon’s house had much more to offer a young child: not only a yard full of trees, but fresh air and quiet, and even an occasional playmate.

  “So you’ll bring her back?” Laurel inquired, her voice hopeful.

  Faye lifted one shoulder noncommittally. “At this point I’m taking things day by day, with Hannah’s mother being in the hospital. Well, I suppose you know the story.” She tried to imagine what Laurel’s initial reaction had been to learning of Simon’s secret child—shock, probably, and perhaps anger at Jenna, as expressed by her more outspoken mother. If so, she seemed to have recovered from it, or hid it well.

  Nodding, Laurel tucked a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, in an effort to keep the warm spring breeze from fanning it across her face. “It’s just that Simon’s been so happy today. I think he’s been sort of lost lately. Even before he found out about Hannah, I got the sense he’s been reevaluating things, you know? Like he’s wondering about the direction his life has taken.”

  “But he’s so successful,” Faye pointed out, puzzled.

  “Yes, but I don’t think it’s quite fulfilled him the way he expected it would, all those years when he struggled to get his writing published, neglecting other areas of his life along the way.” Laurel caught her lip between her teeth for a moment, as though grappling for the right words. “I think becoming a father, as sudden as it was, has put things into focus for Simon. Just look at him.” She lifted her chin toward the lawn where the girls were playing.

  Turning to look, Faye saw that Simon had returned from the house and joined the girls. The tea set had been laid out, and while Mary stood looking on, he was sitting cross-legged on the grass, serving imaginary tea to his daughter and niece.

  “Simon’s great with kids,” his sister went on, her tone more buoyant. “On holidays, he turns into a big kid himself. You should see him at Christmas. Well, holidays do bring out the best in people.”

  Faye nodded once, though she wasn’t sure she agreed. Holidays had brought out the worst in her parents; the perpetual fights over which of them would spend which part of the day with Faye had sucked most of the joy out of the festivities.

  But this was different. The scene unfolding before her was just what she’d imagined a holiday should be like. It eased her mind to know that Hannah would have special days like this, full of fun and laughter. She hoped, at least, that things could stay this civil.

  Leaving the girls with their teacups, Simon rose from the grass and approached the picnic table, reaching into his pocket as he walked. Stopping next to Faye, he drew out his hand.

  “Look, the Easter bunny left something for you,” he said.

  Faye glanced down to see a pink plastic egg lying on the palm of his hand.

  “What’s this?” she asked, surprised.

  One of Simon’s brows quirked upward, a playful smile tugging at the edges his mouth. “Open it and see.”

  Standing up and stepping over the bench, she took the egg from him and pulled it apart at the seam, finding a nest of pink tissue paper inside. Within the folds of paper she found a silver chain; looped over the chain was a silver locket, the front etched with an Easter lily design. Faye laid it on her palm, studying the intricate pattern in disbelief before lifting her eyes to met Simon’s. He looked back with anticipation.

  “You didn’t have to do this, Simon,” she said, her pulse quickening.

  He shrugged dismissively. “I wanted to get you a little something in thanks for the trouble you’ve gone to, bringing Hannah up here.”

  “It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”

  “Here, let me.” Taking the locket from her, he unlatched the chain. Faye gathered her hair in both hands and held it at the back of her head, lowering her chin so he could lift the chain around her neck and latch it behind.

  “Thanks,” she said, feeling the weight of the closed chain against her neck, as the locket came to rest below her collarbone. As she let her hair fall, Simon’s hands lingered on her neck, her golden waves spilling over them. For a moment she stood frozen, his fingertips igniting delicious sparks along the flesh on which they rested, before abruptly dropping away.

  Faye turned to face him. He smiled as he studied the locket lying against her chest.

  “Looks beautiful on you.”

  “Thanks,” Faye said again, feeling a deep flush invade her cheeks.

  In a moment Simon was back with the girls, chasing them around the yard. Faye rubbed the back of her neck with her hand, in an effort to smooth away the shivers of sensation that still prickled beneath her skin.

  “A lovely gift,” Laurel remarked. “Whose picture goes in there?”

  Having almost forgotten Simon’s sister was still sitting on the other side of the table, Faye turned with mild surprise, cradling the locket in her hand. “Probably Hannah. She’s the love of my life, after all.”

  “No boyfriend?” Laurel inquired mildly.

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Something Simon would like to change, I’d imagine,” his sister added, one slender eyebrow lifting, the edge of her mouth curling slightly.

  Faye blinked at her. “Pardon me?”

  “The way he looked at you just now,” Laurel elaborated, then shook her head as though she wished she hadn’t, abruptly dropping her gaze. “Sorry, I should mind my own business.”

  Her cheeks burning hotter, Faye couldn’t think of a response. Instead she gathered up their empty teacups and saucers, grateful for a purpose to draw her away from a conversation from which she could think of no graceful exit.

  “Why don’t I take these inside,” she said, forcing a smile before turning to the house.

  Behind her Faye heard Simon’s voice: “Say Dada. Come on, Hannah. Da-da. Da-da.”

  As she walked, she turned her head to see that he was now wearing the tiara, which had slid off Hannah’s head long ago. Sienna was dancing behind him, giggling, as Hannah stood gazing up at him, gripping a plastic saucer and grinning in amusement at the silly man repeating the funny word. Faye felt her lips pull into a more genuine smile as she entered the house.

  After setting the dishes on the counter, she decided she might as well wash them while she was there. Slipping off her cardigan and hanging it on a chair, she filled the sink with soapy water and began scrubbing out the cups and saucers. She then moved on to the brunch dishes stacked by the sink. As she washed and rinsed, Faye felt the strain ease from her shoulders; it was a relief to be alone for a little while, focused on her task with no distractions. Once everything was set in the drying rack, she wiped down the counter, satisfied with the job she’d done.

  Hearing footsteps on the hardwood behind her, Faye glanced up to see Simon headed her way, a motionless toddler draped over his shoulder, her mop of dark hair obscuring most of her face.

  “Poor thing.” Faye smoothed back Hannah’s hair to reveal a pair of slitted eyelids. “It’s way past her nap time.”

  “I was wondering where you disappeared to,” Simon said
. “You don’t need to wash up the dishes. Go back outside and enjoy yourself.”

  “It’s no bother. I’ll take her to bed.”

  As Faye reached for Hannah, Simon stepped back. “I’ll do it. She’s almost asleep as it is.”

  “All right,” Faye agreed, but she followed him into the bedroom nonetheless; no doubt he could handle putting a child to bed, but she wasn’t sure Hannah would be comfortable enough to fall asleep without her there.

  Setting the little girl gingerly on the mattress, Simon pulled the blanket up to her chest, tucking the edges carefully around her. She peered up sleepily at both of them, three chubby fingers jammed in her mouth, then rolled onto her side with a sharp sigh, blinking slowly before letting her eyelids fall closed.

  Simon straightened, an expression of contentment lighting his features. “Piece of cake,” he whispered to Faye, his mouth curving into a warm smile.

  “If only all of it were this easy.” As she smiled back at him, all at once the image of herself and Simon standing over the sleeping child crystallized in her mind as something more—the picture of a family, whole and complete—and the notion pressed on her heart in a way she would not have expected, stirring an unfamiliar yearning within her.

  Keeping his voice soft, Simon bent closer to her ear, his warm breath stirring her hair. “I never thought I’d say anything this trite, but I’m already madly in love with this little girl. It almost feels as though she’s been a part of my life since she was born.”

  “She seems fond of you as well.”

  His smile broadened, her affirmation clearly pleasing him. “If only she could become as attached to me as she is to you. You’ve done a wonderful job with her, Faye.”

  “Jenna as well,” she reminded him.

  “I have to give her credit for that, at least,” he said evenly, adding, “Thank you again for bringing Hannah here. Despite your reservations.”

  Faye opened her mouth to reply and then closed it, the touch of his hand on her bare elbow catching her off guard. Slowly, his fingers skimmed upward along her forearm, leaving a trail of fiery sensation on her skin before coming to rest on her shoulder.

  “My pleasure,” she muttered at last, the words sounding husky in a suggestive way she didn’t intend.

  “You look beautiful today,” Simon remarked, the smoky resonance of his voice matching Faye’s. His hand slid delicately across her collarbone to pause on the supple hollow of her neck, as it had when he fastened her necklace, but lingering longer this time. As his thumb traced the curve of her jaw, his gaze dropped to her mouth, his blue eyes strikingly intent. Under his fingertips her pulse throbbed fiercely, flooding her body with sudden, sweet desire. For an electrifying moment she was certain he meant to kiss her, and she let her lips part in invitation.

  “Uncle Simon,” a small voice warbled from behind.

  Startled, Faye spun around to see Sienna standing in the bedroom doorway.

  Simon’s hand dropped abruptly to his side. “Shh, Hannah’s going to sleep.”

  “But you have to come outside,” Sienna insisted, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I got your croquet set out of the shed. I want you to play with me.”

  “Sure. Be right there.” Simon exchanged only a brief glance with Faye before joining his niece at the door. Faye lingered a moment longer, pressing her hands to her burning cheeks.

  Sienna watched her shyly for a moment, before asking, “Do you want to play, too, Faye?”

  Faye drew a deep breath to steady herself, offering a bright smile, though her insides still trembled. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Five

  Closing the door as Laurel and Sienna left the house, Simon turned to his mother and Faye with a weary but contented expression.

  “That was a success, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I think everyone had a good time,” Faye concurred.

  Mary squeezed her son’s arm in assurance. “It was a perfect day. Don’t worry, Simon, your sister and niece adore your daughter, and she’s crazy about them as well.”

  “I wasn’t worried about it,” Simon countered. “What’s not to love?” He glanced down at the little girl seated on the carpet, carefully peeling the clothes off one of her favourite dolls. Hannah herself was now wearing a more practical denim romper, her yellow dress having been spared from the perils of their spaghetti dinner.

  “I can’t think of a thing not to love about this precious angel,” his mother replied, stroking Hannah’s hair as she walked past. “I suppose it’s time to tackle those dishes.”

  Simon stopped her, grasping her elbow. “You’ll do no such thing. I’ll take care of it, Mum. You get yourself a drink and relax.”

  Mary smiled mildly, patting his hand. “All right then, I’ll make us all a pot of tea.”

  “I should give Hannah a bath before bed,” Faye said, as Mary headed into the kitchen.

  Simon nodded. “Did you enjoy the day?”

  “Yes.” Faye’s gaze flickered downward, her mind flooded with the memory of their encounter by Hannah’s crib. Had it really happened the way she remembered it, or was it possible she’d imagined the heat in his gaze, or the longing in his touch? Would he really have kissed her, had Sienna not interrupted? And what if they had kissed? Things would be unbearable awkward between them now.

  “I enjoyed meeting Laurel and Sienna,” she added.

  His brows inched upward. “You looked nervous.”

  “Did I? I suppose I was, a little. It’s an unusual situation, you must admit.”

  “I’d prefer to call it extraordinary.” A grin lit his face. “And at the same time, it was a wonderfully ordinary, traditional Easter. I didn’t think to ask whether your family was upset you couldn’t be with them.”

  “They might have thought about that years ago,” Faye said dryly, then thought better of dragging out her family drama at this moment. “Anyway, I probably would have spent the day with Jenna and her mother, under normal circumstances.”

  “Do you like it here, Faye?” Simon asked, regarding her with curiosity.

  “Very much.” She turned to gaze out toward the beach, where sunset was just beginning to blaze in bands of purple and pink across the water. “It’s so peaceful and beautiful.”

  “Would you be willing stay a few more days?” he inquired carefully. “I feel as though Hannah’s just getting used to me, and it would be a shame if you took her back now.”

  Faye looked at him, mildly alarmed by the prospect. “We really need to be back in Vancouver in case Jenna wakes up.”

  Simon stepped forward, spreading his hands in entreaty. “The minute you get word that she’s awake, you can go home straight away. Please, Faye. Just a little more time with Hannah is all I’m asking.”

  For a brief moment the notion entered Faye’s mind that he might be wishing for more time with her, as well. But she just as quickly shook off the idea.

  “One more night is all I can promise right now,” she agreed uneasily.

  Simon smiled. “Good enough. Well, I’d better get to those dishes.”

  “And I’d better get this little one into the bath.” Faye bent to scoop Hannah into her arms, carrying her to the bathroom across from their bedroom.

  As she ran water into the tub and undressed the toddler, Faye tried to focus on the routine task but could not quite manage to relax, her muscles taut with apprehension. Another night under the same roof with Simon Blake. She’d been fretting enough about getting through this night. But it would be fine, she told herself. Avoid ending up alone with a glass of wine by the fireplace, and nothing untoward was likely to happen.

  “This is the way we wash our hair, wash our hair, wash our hair,” Faye sang, working the shampoo into a rich lather over Hannah’s scalp.

  “Wush hair,” Hannah repeated, slinging a glob of suds in Faye’s direction. Watching the foamy blob splatter across Faye’s bangs, the little girl chortled gleefully, displaying both rows of her stubby white teeth.
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  “Silly girl,” Faye said, wiping off the suds. “Are you having fun with Daddy? I think you are. What will you do tomorrow, I wonder?”

  Having expected to leave for home in the morning, Faye hadn’t given any thought to tomorrow’s activities until now. Though nervous tension still gripped her body, a current of anticipation ran through at the notion of seeing Simon’s face across the dinner table one more time, and hearing his smooth English tones. Despite her misgivings, a part of Faye was looking forward to another day at Halfmoon Bay, watching Hannah get to know her father. They were only beginning to form a bond. Surely the child would miss him when they left.

  And you, Faye?

  “Splash!” Hannah shouted, jarring Faye from her thoughts as she slapped the surface of the bathwater giddily.

  “Let’s rinse you off now,” Faye said, dunking the washcloth in the water. “Time for a story and off to bed. For both of us.”

  * * *

  Faye cinched her robe around her waist, taking a moment to smooth down her chaotic tresses as Hannah beat her small palms against the bedroom door.

  “I’m coming, hold your horses.”

  “Ju,” Hannah declared urgently. “Ju ju ju.”

  “Yes, you will get your juice. Even if it means I have to present myself with the worst bed-head I’ve had in years.”

  Unsympathetic, Hannah reached for the doorknob and whined in consternation, unable to quite wrap her fingers around it.

  “All right, let’s go.” Opening the door, Faye let the little girl dart ahead of her into the hallway, and followed close behind as Hannah made her way directly to the kitchen. After a day and a half here the child knew just where breakfast could be found.