by Jackie Braun
Even so, he didn’t step away. Instead, he used the hands that were still holding the sides of his jacket to pull her toward him until their hips bumped. Slowly he lowered his head, all the while telling himself to resist this insane urge that seemed to come over him whenever she was within arm’s reach.
The command went unheeded. Then their mouths met, fused, and he was lost. He released his hold on the jacket to wrap his arms around her. One of his hands snaked up into her hair and tugged it free from the ponytail. The other one moved under the coat he’d draped over her shoulders and searched out skin beneath the layers of her clothing. Even as Seth strained to get closer, something separated them, something sharp-edged and immovable. He glanced down and realized it was his camera, which was still cradled in her hands.
He exhaled sharply and cursed as he released her and backed away. Yes, indeed, something separated them.
“Wow,” Audra murmured.
She shifted the camera to one hand and used the fingers on the other one to reverently touch her lips. Seth couldn’t help it. He took smug satisfaction in knowing that he apparently had rattled her as much as she had rattled him.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.” She ran her index finger lightly over her bottom lip once more. “Who are you really, Seth Ridley?”
The question startled him. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes I feel like I know you. That must seem crazy. We’ve only just met.”
Crazy, yes, since Seth had watched her closely for the past two years and he suddenly felt as if he didn’t know her at all.
“You seem so different,” he whispered, half to himself.
“Why do you say that?” She looked suddenly wary again.
He forced a smile and formulated a response. Once again, he finessed the truth.
“Sorry. It’s just that when I first saw you—based strictly on appearances, you understand—I thought you’d be…I don’t know. Different.”
“Different how?” she persisted.
“Just different.”
“Did you think I would be shallow? Maybe a little wrapped up in myself?”
He shrugged, but remained silent. He didn’t quite trust himself to speak.
“I am,” she admitted. “Or I was. I’m hoping to keep that past tense.”
“Is that a by-product of your life-altering experience?”
“Yes.” She smiled, as if pleased that he understood. “I’m in the process of making myself over. New and improved.”
They regarded one another in silence for a couple of moments before he held out his hands for the camera.
“Let me document the transformation, then.”
“Right now?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “I look…my hair is—”
“You look fine. Come on, Miss New and Improved,” he coaxed. “Let me take your photo. I’ll even give you a print later.”
“And destroy the negative?”
His camera was digital, and so it wasn’t a lie to say, “There will be no negatives. I promise.”
He snapped off eight frames before she could sputter a protest, but she looked ill at ease and oddly self-conscious, so Seth lowered the camera, hoping to get her to relax. They picked their way along the shore and after a few minutes, she did.
“Look!”
Audra bent down and grabbed a grayish rock off the ground. “It’s a Petoskey stone,” she informed him. She walked to the lake’s edge and dipped it into the cold water. He snapped off three shots before she held it out to him.
“See?”
Seth stepped forward for a closer look.
“Why does it look like that?” he asked, intrigued by the honeycomb-like pattern that showed up now that the stone was wet.
“It’s fossilized coral from millions of years ago. I had an entire jar of Petoskey stones when I was a girl.” She rubbed the smooth surface absently before holding it out to him. “Here. Keep it. Some people say they bring good luck.”
“I’m not a big believer in luck,” Seth replied. “What about you?”
“I used to be, but no. Not now.” One side of her mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “Ali always insisted that we made our own luck through hard work. It took me a while to figure out that she was right. Nothing worthwhile in life comes free, does it?”
“No.”
He looped the wide black strap of his camera over one of his shoulders, uncomfortable with the philosophical turn their conversation had taken.
“I’m getting kind of hungry. I think I’ll head back for some breakfast. Are you coming?”
“Actually, I think I’ll walk some more.”
The breeze pushed the hair he’d set free across her face. She scooped it back and held it so that the sun caressed the high slope of her cheek. God, she was so beautiful, and she seemed so damned sincere in her desire to change, to make amends. He found himself wondering: Was that really possible?
“The resort’s dining room offers a breakfast buffet till eleven o’clock. Would…would you like to keep me company for a little longer?” she asked.
To his dismay he nodded. “Sure.”
He called himself a fool, but he fell into step beside her. They walked the length of the beach in silence before heading back to the trail through the woods.
Afterward, Seth made excuses not to join her for breakfast. He needed to clear his head and he couldn’t seem to do that when she was standing nearby crowding his thoughts and making him second-guess the very reason he was in Michigan in the first place.
For the next several days, other than in the morning when they would meet by unspoken agreement for a walk to the water’s edge and then back through the woods, he watched Audra from a distance. He snapped dozens of shots of her as she tramped over the resort’s lush grounds, drove her car into town to pick up groceries or set out for her brother’s waterfront house. Each night, Seth downloaded the day’s take from the memory card, editing and inventorying the pictures on his laptop before storing them on a CD. None of them was quite what he was looking for.
In the images she was barely recognizable as the woman the tabloids had long ago dubbed “Naughty Audie.” It was more than just the darker, tousled hair and lighter or nonexistent makeup. He had yet to catch her sauntering about in a short skirt or pair of spiky heels, and the woman once famous for her extravagant spending and decadent evening escapades was usually tucked inside her secluded cottage well before ten o’clock.
Pictures tell the story.
Seth shoved aside the words he’d lived by since picking up his first camera in high school. He didn’t like the story they were telling him this time. It couldn’t be right. These photographs showed a woman living simply, quietly.
A woman seeking redemption.
That day on the beach he’d asked her to let him document her transformation and she almost had him believing he was. This Audra enjoyed picking wildflowers and skipping stones on the lake’s smooth surface. This Audra took time to watch sunsets and sit on the darkened porch of her cottage to listen to the tree frogs’ evening concerts.
That wasn’t who Audra Conlan Howard Stover Winfield really was. Damn her, though, Seth liked the woman she was pretending to be. Illusion or not, he really liked her.
Early on a Sunday morning two weeks after Seth arrived on Trillium, he was finishing up a bowl of cereal when from his window he spied Audra coming out of her cottage. She was wearing a dress, something relatively conservative for her since its skirt tapered to the knee, but it was the first time he’d seen her in anything other than jeans in days.
What was she up to?
She had already climbed into her rental car and shifted into gear by the time Seth tugged on some clothes and grabbed his camera in hot pursuit. He drove around aimlessly for nearly half an hour before he spotted her car tucked into a lot outside the Methodist church half a mile from the dock. He pulled in and parked just down from it before he realized she was still seated behin
d the wheel with the engine running.
Since he was pretty sure she’d seen him, he was left with no choice but to get out and walk to her vehicle, which he did after carefully stowing his camera beneath the passenger seat in his car.
“Good morning,” he said when she rolled down her window. He motioned toward the church with his chin. “Are you going in?”
She sucked in a deep breath and after exhaling told him, “I’m thinking about it. You might not want to stand too close to me, by the way.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m expecting a bolt of lightning at any moment.” Her tight laughter did nothing to disguise her nerves.
“It’s been a while since you’ve stepped foot in church, I take it.”
“You have no idea,” she replied on a grimace. Then she asked, “What about you?”
“A couple of years.”
Seth shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly even as the memories sparked and then scorched him. His last couple of brushes with organized religion had been when he’d sat in the front pew at Saint Mark Catholic Church and listened as the same priest who had presided over his confirmation celebrated the funeral Mass for LeeAnn and his stepfather. A couple months later he’d been back in that church again, eulogizing his mother.
Seth’s gaze cut to Audra. It was her fault. It had to be her fault.
Audra mistook the reason for his sudden change in mood. “Getting cold feet, too, hmm?”
He wasn’t talking about church when he replied with renewed resolve, “Cold feet? Not at all.”
But it was difficult to maintain his anger when he and Audra were seated in the back row of the church with hymns being sung and a minister preaching about the healing power of forgiveness.
Seth shifted uncomfortably on the hard pew, the old guilt flaming as white-hot as the memories. He saw LeeAnn and his mother in the family minivan, their gazes tinged with disappointment that Seth and John’s arguing had ruined yet another family outing. His stepfather’s expression had been tight with anger as he had accused Seth of not accepting him, of still treating him like an outsider.
In truth, Seth had felt like the outsider since the day his mother had remarried two decades before. More heated words had been exchanged until John had started the vehicle’s engine. Then it was Seth’s mother who’d issued the parting shot.
“Don’t come to the house until you can apologize to your father,” she’d said.
“He’s not my father.”
“He tried to be. He’s wanted to be. The fact that you don’t consider him such is your doing, not his. And it’s been your loss.”
Seth had fumed as he’d watched the minivan disappear around a bend in the road. Apologize? To that man? No way. It would be a cold day in hell before he would do any such thing.
How utterly right he’d been.
A few months later Seth had stood in the foyer of his family’s home, shattered by grief. He’d packed their belongings and put the house up for sale. Every harsh word he’d spoken to John over the years had echoed in his head, every tear his mother and LeeAnn had cried had burned him like acid. It had been too late for apologies. It had been too late to seek forgiveness and make the kind of amends Audra claimed to be seeking.
He glanced sideways at her, noting the somber line of her mouth and the way she bowed her head in almost desperate supplication. When the minister talked about the prodigal son and how his return home was cause for celebration, tears gathered in her eyes and then spilled over.
Emotions swelled, threatening to swamp Seth as well. Audra made accepting the past seem so damned easy. No, that wasn’t right. Not easy, but essential. He stood abruptly, shaking his head as a denial formed on his lips. Unlike her, he couldn’t go home again, the prodigal returning. It wasn’t an option or even a possibility.
“No!”
“Seth, are you okay? Where are you going?” she whispered in surprise.
“I can’t do this.”
Her brows tugged together in confusion. “Do what?”
“I can’t do this!” he repeated in a voice that was a little louder, a little more emphatic.
Congregants turned and regarded him curiously as he backed away from her, nearly tripping on his way out of the pew. He stumbled through the church’s rear door and all but ran to his car, where he braced his hands against the driver’s side and dragged great gulps of air into his lungs. He couldn’t seem to breathe and he was trembling, he realized, as if chilled through to the bone, even as sweat beaded his forehead.
What had he meant when he’d told Audra, I can’t do this? Did he mean he couldn’t hurt her? Did he mean he couldn’t forgive her?
The answer to either question seemed to damn him. And yet something niggled, making him wonder if the this to which he had referred was something else entirely.
Shaken, he got into his vehicle and revved the engine to life. When he spied the camera poking out from under the passenger seat, he felt his breathing start to settle. He hadn’t come here to forgive her. He’d come to Trillium to expose her. To humiliate her. To make her pay for what she’d done. And he would, by God. On the graves of his loved ones, he would.
He drove ten miles over the speed limit on his way back to the cottage. Even so, he was not quite able to outrun Audra’s contrite expression.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT TOOK a few days, but Seth finally felt up to seeing Audra again, although he still wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say when they were face-to-face after that embarrassing display at the church. He’d used the time away from her to gather his thoughts and tamp down on the desire and misplaced admiration he’d begun to feel. Both were interfering with his better judgment.
Since coming to Trillium, he’d spoken to Deke Welling twice. Seth had assured the other man on both occasions that he would wrap up his assignment in a month’s time and send an electronic file of the photographs he’d taken. Nearly three weeks had elapsed, though, and the job felt far from complete.
The problem was, the more time Seth spent with Audra, the more information he gathered from her and about her and the more photographs he snapped of her, the less he felt he truly knew or understood her.
And, God help him, the less driven he was to see her pay.
Forgiveness. Sometimes he found himself thinking she deserved it. That maybe in forgiving her he would find that elusive peace he’d been seeking as well. But then he would recall that even Audra had once agreed that some things couldn’t be forgiven. And so he got back to work.
He’d already showered and dressed when he spied the deer out back and decided they presented him with a good excuse to show up on Audra’s doorstep with his camera in tow, barely an hour after sunrise.
It turned out he needn’t have bothered to find an excuse. When he opened the door to his cottage, Audra stood on his porch. He’d startled her when he’d swung open the door before she could knock, and he couldn’t help but draw comparisons between the wide-eyed woman and the wary-looking four-legged creatures that were sipping from the creek out back. Both were skittish. Both seemed vulnerable.
Her hair hung in loose curls to her shoulders and the minimal makeup on her eyes left them looking larger, brighter. She wore what he supposed some people might call “sweats”, although the designer insignia on the long-sleeved top screamed expensive. As for the way the fabric fit over her bombshell curves, well that screamed something else entirely. And again he felt that tight fist of attraction land its potent punch.
“Seth! You surprised me.”
“I was just coming to get you,” he said in a hushed voice.
“Why are you whispering?” she asked.
“Deer. Four of them are out back right now. All does, I think, although one’s a good size. Thought you might like to come in and take a peek.”
“Bet they make quite a picture,” she said on a smile, motioning toward the camera hanging from his shoulder. “Have you taken any?”
He nodded. Indeed he h
ad, suckered in by the animals’ gentle beauty. After quietly removing the screen and slowly cranking out the window, he’d snapped several dozen frames. Two of the smaller deer had perked up their ears and glanced around. The biggest doe had stamped her hoof and snorted at him before going about her business a few minutes later.
“Come in.”
The homey scents of toasted bread and freshly brewed coffee greeted Audra, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten breakfast yet or enjoyed the day’s first cup of caffeine. Surely that was what had her mouth watering, and not the man whose nicely packaged butt had just disappeared into his bedroom.
She paused at the door, alarm bells screaming, or maybe it was a rush of hormones that had her ears ringing. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing here, even though she’d missed him the past few mornings. Really missed him, in a way that went beyond the fluttering sensation he set off in her stomach. She’d missed their conversations and even the companionable silences that were part and parcel of their morning walks.
“The view is better from this window,” he said when she remained rooted in the doorway. On a wink, he added, “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
Audra recalled the way he’d kissed her that first morning on the beach. She’d been sorely tempted to let the moment progress, and that had been without a comfortable mattress conveniently situated nearby.
She raised an eyebrow. “So said the spider to the fly.”
Seth lowered himself onto the edge of the bed’s wrought-iron footboard and crossed his arms over his broad chest. Behind him the covers were rumpled and twisted as if he’d endured a restless night’s sleep. She knew she’d had a few of those herself lately.
He smiled dangerously. “Forgive me, but I’m having a hard time thinking of you as helpless prey, Audra.”
“Oh, I’m far from helpless,” she agreed.
But that didn’t make her immune to his rather lethal brand of charm. Tread carefully, she reminded herself, and was vaguely aware that entering the man’s bedroom would defy even the most liberal description of the word “careful”.
