She wasn’t a fool. She knew only too well that she and Mitch didn’t have a future together. But she also knew that by allowing Mitch to stay in her life, now, when she truly needed someone for support and caring and protection, she could help ease his guilty conscience. He so desperately wanted to do something for her. This way, he could.
Once the police caught the person responsible for the break-ins, she and Mitch would have to face the truth about their relationship.
The ringing phone jarred Emily from her private thoughts. Leaving the wooden spoon resting in the pancake batter, she wiped her hands off on the dishcloth she’d laid over her shoulder and reached out for the wall phone near the back door.
“Hello.”
“I knew it! I told myself you weren’t foolish enough to trust that man, but there you are at his house,” the agitated masculine voice said. “You could have called me yourself and told me what happened instead of having Nikki call. But then, I suppose you knew how upset I’d be. When Nikki told me that you were staying with Mitchell Hayden, I couldn’t believe it. Emily, have you lost your mind?”
“Good morning to you, Uncle Fowler. And yes, I’m just fine. Thanks for asking.”
“Don’t be sarcastic with me, young lady. I don’t think this situation is at all amusing. I find it terribly disturbing!”
“I agree, Uncle Fowler. Those two hoodlums who broke into my house last night disturbed me. As a matter of fact, they scared the living daylights out of me!”
Fowler cleared his throat several times. “Well, yes, I suppose they did, and I’m so very sorry that you had to go through that, my dear. But the facts remain the same. Mitchell Hayden cannot be trusted, and I believe you’re being unwise to stay with him when you could come home to me. Or you could stay with Nikki. That man will only hurt you again.”
“Uncle Fowler, I wish I could make you understand how I feel about Mitch and why I trust him.” Emily paused when she heard Fowler’s groaning huff. “He rescued me from those boys who broke into my house. He doesn’t want to hurt me. Don’t you see? He saved me.”
“He could have hired those boys just so he could play hero,” Fowler said. “I warn you, Emily, don’t trust the man!”
“What’s happened to change you so? Up until recently, you’ve been my biggest supporter. You’ve always believed in me and encouraged me—”
“You’re the one who has changed—since you became infatuated with your husband’s murderer!” Fowler’s voice trembled with emotion.
Emily clutched the phone with white-knuckled tension. Willing herself to stay calm, she took a deep breath. “Mitch didn’t kill Stuart. He made some mistakes. He believed in the wrong people. But Mitch has paid dearly for what happened.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing you correctly. What sort of spell has that man cast on you?” Fowler asked.
“As long as you’re being this unreasonable, I’m not going to discuss Mitch Hayden with you.”
“Don’t you realize that I have your best interest at heart? I can’t bear the thought of your wasting yourself on a man like that. The man is using you to regain respectability. If Stuart’s widow can forgive him, then—”
“Please, don’t do this to me. You know how much you mean to me. Don’t make me choose between you and Mitch.”
Mitch, freshly shaved and showered and neatly dressed in clean jeans and cotton shirt, walked into the kitchen. He halted behind Emily when he realized she was on the phone.
“He really has you fooled, doesn’t he?” Fowler’s voice rose to one octave below a scream. “Whatever’s happened to make you trust this man so? My God, Emily, you haven’t slept with him, have you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“You have!” Fowler said, his voice loud enough to hurt Emily’s ears. “He’s brainwashed you. I beg you not to trust that man. Run from him. Get away, before he harms you. Please, let me come and get you. Let me take care of you. Keep you safe.”
Emily shook her head, not knowing whether to feel sorry for her uncle or to be angry with him. “Nothing you say or do is going to convince me that Mitch is a threat to my safety.”
Mitch reached around her and grabbed the phone out of her hand. Gasping, Emily jumped out of the way and stared at him with round eyes, startled by his actions.
“Jordan, this is Mitch Hayden. I just thought you should know that if anyone wants to get to Emily, they’ll have to come through me first.”
Mitch slammed down the telephone receiver, then turned to Emily. “Want me to help you with the pancakes?”
“What?”
“Pancakes. Breakfast. Remember, you didn’t want scrambled eggs or an omelette.”
“Oh. Right.” Mitch’s words to her uncle kept ringing in her ears. Over and over again she heard him saying, To get to Emily, they’ll have to come through me first. “You—you get the coffee ready. I’ll make the pancakes.”
He kissed her on the cheek, then swatted her on the behind. She gazed at him as if seeing him for the first time. When he smiled at her, her heartbeat accelerated. She smiled back at him.
“So the police don’t have a clue who hired those boys to break into your house, huh?” Handing Emily a glass of iced tea, Nikki Griffin sat down beside her on the tan-and-blue striped sofa.
“Not a clue.” Emily sighed. “But I...well, there’s something that I haven’t told anyone. Not the police. Not even Mitch.”
Nikki sipped on her tea, then set her glass on the cocktail table in front of her. “What’s going on? Why are you keeping secrets from the police?”
“It may be nothing. Really. Just a silly suspicion.”
“So tell me!”
Emily scooted to the edge of her seat, moving closer, then glanced around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers. “Last evening, I had a date with Charles, and when he brought me home, I told him that I wasn’t going to see him again, that I’d made a mistake leading him on.”
Nikki whistled long and low. “I’ll bet he wasn’t pleased to hear that.”
“He asked me if I was in love with Mitch and I told him that it was none of his business.”
“I see. You’re wondering if Charles is behind the letters and phone calls and break-ins, aren’t you?”
“Isn’t he the one with the most reason to want Mitch out of the way? Charles wants me to marry him. I think he loves me, in his own way, but part of wanting to be my husband is his desire to please Uncle Fowler and move into Stuart’s place as the Jordan heir.”
“But Charles thought he was getting somewhere with you,” Nikki said. “Why would he have hired those boys days ago to break into your house again last night?”
“I’m not sure, but I think Charles sensed that things weren’t right between us, that I still had feelings for Mitch. Maybe he hired those boys hoping I’d turn to him for help and stay away from Mitch.”
“Anyone could have hired those young thugs.” Nikki reached out and took Emily’s hands into hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You said both of them are only seventeen and the police told you they’re the kind of kids who are always in trouble, the kind who’d do just about anything for money.
“I know I’ve thought Charles was the bad guy in all this, but I’m not one hundred percent sure anymore.”
“Do you suspect someone else?” Emily asked.
“Rod Simmons has been acting strange lately. Strange even for an artistic, moody, intellectual guy like him.” Nikki released Emily’s hands. “I can’t explain how I feel. It’s just...well, Rod’s been acting like he’s guilty of something. Maybe I’m nuts. Maybe I’m just imagining things.”
“No, you’re not nuts, and if you’re imagining things, so am I,” Emily said. “I’ve noticed a change in Rod’s behavior lately. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but now that you mention it, he has been acting guilty. I think he’s been trying to tell me something, but I’ve been putting him off, afraid of what he might say or do.”
“So,
the suspects haven’t changed since day one, have they?” Nikki shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then stared directly at Emily.”
“What is it?”
“There are two more obvious suspects, you know.”
“Not Mitch.”
“Yeah, Mitch. Even though I don’t think it’s him. I’m sure the police still have him at the top of their list, thanks to Fowler. And he’s another name that should be on the list.”
“Uncle Fowler? You’re joking.” Emily’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Nikki, if there’s anyone on earth I can trust to never hurt me, to always do what he thinks is best for me, that person is Uncle Fowler.”
“Maybe he thinks scaring you into moving back to Mobile with him and into putting Mitch out of your life is what’s best for you.”
“Uncle Fowler would never... No, it can’t be him. The phone calls and letters were from someone who wanted to be my lover. Uncle Fowler doesn’t feel that way about me. He loves me like a daughter or a little sister.”
“I thought so, too. But maybe we were wrong.”
“It has to be Rod or Charles or... It isn’t Mitch and it isn’t Uncle Fowler. Oh, Lord, Nikki, if only the police could discover the man’s identity and put an end to this insanity. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“I can imagine how you must have felt last night. All alone in the dark, with two guys breaking into your home.”
Emily lifted the moist glass to her lips and tasted the cool tea. “I was scared to death, but at the same time, I was so angry. Angry with the men breaking into my house...but—but most of all, I was angry with myself because of my irrational fear of the dark.”
“I wouldn’t call your fear of the dark irrational,” Nikki said. “Didn’t your psychiatrist tell you that fear of the dark was a common problem for people who’d lived through fires after being trapped in all that pitch-black darkness caused by the smoke?”
Emily set down her tea beside Nikki’s on the table. She ran her fingers up and down the frosted surface, making streaks on the glass. “I faced the darkness outside when I went through my window. I was afraid, but I knew I didn’t have any choice. Mitch said that I’d been very brave.”
“Mitch is right. It took a lot of courage for you to leave your only source of light.”
“I don’t know what I’d have done without Mitch. He came charging to my rescue the minute I called him.” Releasing her tea glass, Emily leaned back on the sofa and faced Nikki. “I shudder to think what might have happened if those boys had cut the phone wires a minute sooner.”
“You’d have made it to Mitch.”
“Yes, I think I would have. I knew that if only I could get to Mitch, everything would be all right.” Emily wiped her hands across the top of her thighs, then bunched up the soft lavender cotton material of her slacks, playing nervously with its softness between her thumb and forefinger. “I’ve tried to be strong. All these years since... I had to be strong. Uncle Fowler kept telling me to be strong. And I was. For Uncle Fowler’s sake at first, and then for my own sake. I had to be strong to survive.”
Nikki placed her hand on Emily’s shoulder. “What are you trying to say?”
“I suppose I’m asking you if it’s all right for me not to be so strong right now, if it’s all right for me to lean on Mitch, to be thankful for his protection.”
“Oh, dammit, Em, I’m the wrong person to ask about leaning on a man, about being thankful to some man for protecting you.”
“Put aside your liberal feminist thinking for just one minute and answer me truthfully. If you were in my position, would you want a man like Mitch Hayden to take care of you?”
Nikki frowned, crinkling her freckled, slightly sunburned nose. “The question isn’t fair.”
“Confess,” Emily said. “Not for your sake, but for mine.”
“Okay. But if what I’m about to say ever leaves this room, I’ll deny every word.”
Emily laughed. “I’ll never tell a living soul.”
“If I were in your situation, yes, I’d want a man just like Mitch Hayden to take care of me. I’d want to know that he’d put his life on the line for me, that he’d stand between me and whoever was threatening my life.” Glancing around the room, Nikki tapped her fingers on her knees. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be trying to take care of myself, and if it came to a showdown, I’d be right there, fighting for myself. It’s just that I think it would be kind of nice to know I wasn’t facing the big, bad world all alone.”
“Mitch told Uncle Fowler that if anyone came after me, they’d have to go through him first.”
“I’d say the guy’s in love with you.”
“I wish I could believe that.” Emily sighed, afraid that her doubts and fears would keep Mitch and her apart.
Was that what the future held for them? Doubt and uncertainty? Even if Mitch told her he loved her, could she believe him? He’d do anything to make her happy, wouldn’t he? Even lie to her.
Mitch waited in the foyer while the housekeeper went to inform Mr. Jordan that he had a visitor.
So this was where Emily had spent the past five years, surrounded by wealth and a proud heritage. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like belonging to a prestigious family such as the Mobile McLains or Jordans. He’d been one of those Hayden kids who lived in a shack and wore hand-me-down clothes. He could well remember folks in Sutra, Mississippi, looking down their noses at Johnny Ray and Judy Hayden’s passel of kids. Pity and charity. God, how he hated both.
And Emily thought all he felt for her was pity, that his feelings for her were born out of guilt. Hell, she was right, up to a point. He did feel guilty about the part he’d played in destroying her life; he’d probably always feel guilty. And maybe there was an element of pity in his feelings, a deep heartfelt sympathy for what she’d endured. But there was so much more to his feelings than pity and guilt. He cared for Emily Jordan in a way he’d never cared for another human being. And last night, he had wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman.
But would she believe him if he told her? Even if he swore on a stack of Bibles as high as Fowler Jordan’s two-story house?
He knew he didn’t deserve her, knew that she was far too good for him, but that didn’t change the way he felt about her. He didn’t have much to offer a woman, but he could and would offer Emily all that he had. And if she accepted him, he’d find a way to give her everything she wanted.
“Mr. Jordan will see you now,” the short, plump, middle-aged housekeeper said. “This way, please.”
She led Mitch into what he assumed was the front parlor, a room filled with priceless antiques.
“What are you doing here, Hayden?” Fowler Jordan, looking every minute of his fifty-six years, rested one hand on the back of a Chippendale chair and the other in the pocket of his silk robe. “You must know that you aren’t welcome in this house.”
“I’m here because I think you and I should join forces to protect Emily. The last thing she needs right now is to have to choose between you and me.” Staring directly at Fowler Jordan, Mitch saw the bitter hatred etched on the man’s face.
“You may have convinced my niece that you’re innocent of any wrongdoing, that you had no part in my nephew’s death, but you won’t convince me. I know your type. Money-hungry trash who will do anything, use anyone, to get what he wants. A man with any conscience at all would never insinuate himself into the life of the widow of the man he’d murdered!”
“Look, Jordan, I’ve spent the past five years wallowing in guilt. You can’t say anything to me that I haven’t said to myself. But the bottom line is that I didn’t murder anyone. I made some stupid mistakes. Mistakes I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. But Emily has forgiven me. She understands that I—”
“She isn’t thinking straight.” Fowler glared menacingly at Mitch. “The girl’s a romantic. Always has been. Her grandmother raised her to want a husband and children. That’s what Emily wants a
nd needs. You can’t offer her marriage and children. Charles Tolbert can.”
“What makes you think I can’t offer Emily marriage and children?”
Fowler’s eyes bulged, making them look even larger through the bifocal lenses of his glasses. “I forbid it! Don’t even think about the possibility. Believe me, Hayden, I’ll find a way to stop you.”
“I had hoped you and I could reach a compromise. For Emily’s sake.” Mitch shook his head, almost feeling sorry for Fowler Jordan. The poor man was as obsessed with Emily as he himself had been for the past five years. Only, Jordan’s obsession was the controlling kind. Obviously, he thought he had the right to plan the rest of Emily’s life.
“If you actually care about Emily, stay away from her.” Fowler spoke quickly, his voice loud and quivering. “She would never marry someone I couldn’t accept. And believe me, I could never accept you!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
Mitch turned and walked out of the parlor, knowing he hadn’t heard the last from Stuart Jordan’s uncle.
Chapter 15
The picnic had been Mitch’s idea. He’d even prepared the pimento cheese sandwiches and carrot sticks himself. The apple juice and Vivaldi had been Emily’s suggestions. They’d spread an old quilt out on the beach in the late afternoon, positioning Emily’s huge beach umbrella to protect them from the warm June sunshine.
Mitch had thrown on a pair of cutoff jeans and cotton T-shirt, while Emily had dressed in baggy red shorts and a matching red-and-white striped top. They’d both opted to go barefoot, loving the feel of the damp, coarse sand under their feet.
Mitch lifted the juice bottle to his lips, sipping the cool liquid as he watched Emily working away busily on the charcoal sketch she had begun before they’d eaten. The blaring of trumpets and the forceful rush of violins blended with the call of seagulls and the song of the bay waters.
Emily And The Stranger Page 19
