“The people here are my friends,” she added. “I won’t desert them. Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious.” Evan reached out to trace her mouth with his fingers and his eyes shone with a strange light. “I have the most remarkable urge to kiss you.”
Just the thought that he wanted to kiss her sent Marta’s spirits soaring. Remembering the man behind Evan’s detour to New Hope, however, they quickly fell to earth.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to restrain yourself.”
He dropped his hand. “I know.”
“I won’t be bribed with a kiss.”
“Bribed?”
“I won’t change my mind about meeting my grandfather just because you kiss me,” she explained primly.
For a long moment Evan appeared speechless. Suddenly he burst out laughing loud enough to attract attention.
“What’s so funny?” she hissed.
“You are,” he chortled. “You certainly are good for a man’s ego.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m flattered. I never realized how powerful my kisses must be if they’re capable of affecting your decisions.”
“I wasn’t paying you a compliment,” she snapped, embarrassed because he found her remark humorous.
He hugged her. “I know.”
His actual embrace proved what she’d always thought—the experience of being in his arms, however innocently, was too exhilarating for her to stay angry. She had sounded rather silly—prim, in fact. Marta burst out laughing.
Someone yelled out, “Hey, you two. What’s so funny?”
“Sorry. Private joke,” Evan returned as he released her. He muttered for her ears only, “I don’t know about you, but this place is too crowded.”
His observation echoed her thoughts. “Where do you want to go?”
He shrugged. “You know this town better than I do. Besides, you’re the driver. You decide.”
“Have you seen the waterfall at the park?” she asked impulsively. She wasn’t ready for the evening to end, but inviting him to her house was out of the question…not with her two sisters in town.
Relief flickered across his features. “Sounds great,” he said with enthusiasm.
Their goodbyes lasted about half an hour and by then the sun had completely set. The lamps lining the city streets were already glowing brightly by the time they reached their destination.
Evan walked beside Marta on the concrete path winding through the city park, holding her loosely with one arm.
“You’re walking too slowly if you want to burn off those extra calories,” she teased.
He pulled her closer. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t exercise right after a big meal?”
“Your big meal was three hours ago.”
He acted surprised. “My, how time flies. So, how many miles do we hike to find this waterfall?”
“It’s around the bend. I’ll warn you, though. Teenagers like to hang out here, too.”
“Sort of like New Hope’s Lovers’ Lane?”
“Yeah.” Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to bring him here.
Nonsense, she scolded herself. They were both adults. Nothing…absolutely nothing would happen. She might toy with a few fantasies, but there were far too many reasons not to indulge in them.
“Tell me about Ros,” he said as they passed under the leafy canopy the trees provided. “Has she always been in a wheelchair?”
“Oh, no. She rode horses and competed in shows all the time. One day she was practicing her jumps and for some reason her horse balked. She flew off, hit one of the fence’s limestone posts and suffered a spinal-cord injury. Ever since then—she was thirteen at the time—she’s been in a wheelchair.”
“A severed spinal cord?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” Marta admitted. “But whatever happened, the doctors gave her no hope.”
“There’s been a lot of progress made with those types of injuries. Has she gone back to see if they can repair the damage?”
Marta shook her head. “She’s refused. I think she doesn’t want to raise her hopes just to hear them give her the bad news all over again.” She sighed. “I can’t say I blame her.”
The sound of water rushing grew louder. As she led him around the next curve, a small pool came into view. Illuminated by red, white and blue underwater lights, water shot through pipes of various lengths, creating fountains in a tiered design. At the north end of the pool, more water trickled down a steep eight-foot-tall and six-foot-wide brick staircase. Tiny strands of lights lined each step and created an illusion of millions of diamonds tumbling down.
“How unusual,” he remarked.
She motioned to a lawn swing nearby, choosing the one shielded by several large bushes for added privacy. “It really is. Peaceful, too.”
Minutes later, she was enjoying the gentle sway of the swing.
“How long has the clinic been in operation?” Evan asked.
“About two years. I finished nursing training when I was twenty-two. Afterwards, I worked in an ER while I studied to become a nurse-practitioner. Before I finished, I approached Dr Campbell about opening up a satellite clinic in New Hope. By the time I graduated, he’d agreed.”
“He wasn’t supportive of the idea?”
“Not at first. I had to work on him for several months. After I showed him facts and figures, and then spent two months working in his office to establish protocol and prove I could work independently, he was willing to try it.”
“Did he furnish the building? It seems perfect for Ros and her wheelchair.”
Marta smiled. “Oh, no. New Hope’s city council provided the building, with the stipulation that Dr Campbell’s clinic would sign a five-year contract. I’d always planned on hiring Ros, so I insisted on everything being wheelchair-accessible.”
“You two must have been good friends.”
“We are best friends,” Marta corrected him. “While I was going to college, she was having a tough time because she’d planned on training horses and opening a riding academy. She was convinced her life was over, so I promised her a job. It gave her something to look forward to, so she took business and medical transcription classes at the community college. She did so well she received job offers from all over, but she turned them down. I’m lucky to have her.”
“Yes, you are. My own secretary could take a few lessons from her. Ros guards your time well.”
Marta laughed. “I’ve told her to relax, but she believes if we’re lenient and give an inch, people will take the proverbial mile.”
“It happens a lot in service professions,” he admitted. His voice grew soft. “Is that what happened when you went to Winston’s office? His secretary wouldn’t let you in?”
Marta stiffened and she fingered a fold of her dress. “I wish it had been that simple.”
“What happened?”
It almost seemed like a dirty trick for Evan to mention a painful subject on such a pleasant evening, but the serenity of their surroundings gave her the courage to tell what she’d never told anyone else—not even Rachel. Marta had been too embarrassed for her stepsisters to learn that her own grandfather wouldn’t give her the time of day when theirs was so kind.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the rich aroma of greenery and moss under the trees, the aroma of marigolds and zinnias, and the clean scent of water.
“My stepfather, Amy, Rachel and I had gone to Dallas after my mother died,” she began. “We knew he’d leave the hotel for his appointment with some businessmen, so I planned to use the time to meet my grandfather and tell him of my mother’s death. Rachel and I had worked everything out, including the cab fare, before we left home.
“My mom rarely talked about her dad and when she did she didn’t say anything good about him. Understandable under the circumstances, but I was sure he’d want to know what had happened to her. So…” she drew a deep breath “…I took a taxi to his building and found him
on the tenth floor. You can’t imagine how scared I was to walk into his office.”
“Yes, I can.”
She hesitated. Sheer determination had kept her going after she’d seen Winston’s name on the door in gold-plated letters. Perhaps if she’d made an appointment, their meeting wouldn’t have been such a stressful experience. Then again, considering her rude reception, she probably wouldn’t have been allowed into the elevator if she’d given advance notice of her arrival.
“I’d worn my newest dress, thinking it would boost my confidence,” she admitted, recalling the short-sleeved, rose-print dress she’d sewn for the occasion. “I was petrified someone would throw me out before I could see him. At the same time, I had this overwhelming faith that once he knew who I was life would suddenly become wonderful. No more scraping by or doing without. A real Cinderella story.”
Evan didn’t answer, but she knew he understood.
“Anyway,” she rushed on, “I walked into a room larger than our living room and kitchen combined. I asked the lady behind the desk—Ms Lancaster—if I could see Mr Clay because he was my grandfather.
“She gave me this funny look, then went into his private office. When she came out, he was with her and he was furious.” Marta would never forget how cold his expression had been. Icicles could have dripped off his aristocratic nose.
“He instructed me to go back to wherever I’d come from. He didn’t have a granddaughter and my scam wouldn’t work.”
“Didn’t you show him your birth certificate?” Evan’s voice was sharp, almost angry. She didn’t know if he was upset with her, or with Winston.
“I tried, but he wouldn’t look at it because he claimed it was falsified. Then he threatened to call the police.”
“I’m so sorry,” Evan murmured.
If he hadn’t sympathized, she would have remained in control. The pity on his face was her undoing.
Marta’s eyes glistened and she sniffled. “I wanted him to believe me so much,” she whispered, reliving the moment, “and he thought I was lying.”
Nothing had crushed her tender heart as thoroughly as his accusation. After thirteen years, she could still hear his voice thundering in her ears, taste the fear in her mouth.
She hiccuped and pressed her lips together as she struggled to regain her composure. Without a word, Evan tugged her close and tucked her head under his chin. As he whispered nothings to her and stroked her back, her emotions burst through the walls she’d erected around herself.
“I hate to cry,” she said through her tears.
“I know.”
“I told myself after that day, I never would cry again over him.”
Evan was sure she hadn’t. Until now. Although he hated to be the one who brought her to this point, releasing her hurt was long overdue.
“Why wouldn’t he know who I was?” Marta asked in a choked voice. “Couldn’t he see enough of his own child in me to at least ask a few questions?”
Torn between his sorrow for her and his loyalty to Winston, he didn’t know what to say. All he could do was hold her…and soothe away her anguish as best he could.
Her quiet sobs continued as if now that the dam had broken loose the water wouldn’t stop until every last drop of grief over her disappointments, rejections and lost dreams had been expelled.
His shirt became sodden, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to lean against him and draw from his strength while she had none left of her own.
Finally, she sniffled, and he knew the well was running dry. Yet she continued to cling to him and he was more than happy to keep her nestled against his chest.
“The lady walked me to the elevator,” she said softly. “Isn’t it odd how I remember what she was wearing? A navy-blue suit with a striped blue-and-white silk scarf around her neck. And I remember her perfume. Something sophisticated.”
“It was an intense time for you.” People’s brains often recorded the most minute details during a crisis.
“Yeah. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Anyway, she escorted me to the elevator. Probably to make sure I didn’t hang around and cause trouble,” she said wryly. “I asked if I could leave my address in case he changed his mind. She was nice about it, and smiled, but said not to bother. Nothing would come of it.”
“I wish you hadn’t had to go through that,” he said.
Marta straightened, wiping her tear-streaked face with her fingertips. Evan reluctantly let her go.
“Do you understand why I find it difficult to believe in his sincerity? Or does he finally want to see me because I made my own way and he won’t have to spend any of his millions on my behalf?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said firmly. “Can’t you give him the benefit of the doubt? Talk to him for yourself and let him answer your questions.”
He felt her gaze search his face in the semi-darkness. “I know you want me to, but I can’t. Please, try to understand. I want to forget I ever met him. I want to forget that Winston Clay is my grandfather.”
Evan fell silent. For several long minutes the splashing water provided the only background noise as he considered his reply.
“I know you want to pretend he doesn’t exist,” he finally said. “But you never have and you never will.”
“Of course I have,” she retorted. “I was fine until you came.”
He shook his head. “You may think you were, but consider what you’ve done with your life. Everything you’ve accomplished was intended to prove one thing.”
“Which is?”
“That you didn’t need him.”
“I didn’t,” she said coolly. “I still don’t.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. However, your determination to become a success without his help was what drove you. It still does, if you’d only admit it. So, do you honestly believe you’ll ever forget him?”
She squared her shoulders and met his gaze without flinching. “I’m going to try.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
EVAN’S cellphone rang on Saturday morning and he pried open his eyes to check the time. Nine a.m. An ungodly hour, considering he’d fallen asleep just before dawn. After Marta had given him a ride back to the motel, he’d been too keyed up to go to bed. The combination of her tragic story and his unfulfilled desire for her had kept the sandman away.
In the end, he’d watched television and tried to read the latest Robin Cook mystery, before giving up at five a.m.
Now, with the melodic twitter in his ear, he shook himself awake.
“Evan,” a hearty voice announced. “How are you?”
He mentally groaned. He’d promised to touch bases with Winston and his mother after he’d settled in. After two weeks and no word, they’d obviously grown concerned.
“I’m fine, Winston,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Just relaxing and enjoying myself.” He had enjoyed himself last night, so he wasn’t lying.
“The weather channel shows it’s perfect there in the mountains.”
“It is. Warm days and cool nights.” Evan repeated what he knew to be true before he steered the subject in another direction. He didn’t want to bluff his way through another conversation about local conditions. “How’s Mom?”
“She’s right here.” Before Evan knew it, his mother had the phone.
“Are you looking after yourself?” she asked. “Getting plenty of rest and eating right?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” Ruth Gallagher conveniently forgot how at thirty-three years old he didn’t need her to monitor his daily diet.
“We expected you to call before now.”
Her gentle chiding sent a twinge of remorse through him. “I’m sorry. It’s just been…busy.” He winced at his description.
“You’re there to rest, not to be busy, dear. Take care, son. Winston wants to talk again.”
He heard the phone jiggling before Winston’s voice came across the miles. “I hated to call you on your cellphone, but I never could reach you at the condo.”
“I’m not inside very often.”
“I see.” The pause was brief. “I was hoping you’d tell me how you liked the exercise equipment I had installed.”
“I haven’t tested everything out yet,” he said, hating to stretch the truth, “but it all looks great. I’ll give it a whirl on the next rainy day.”
“Evan?”
Something in Winston’s tone changed, and Evan grew wary. “Yes?”
“There isn’t any exercise equipment in the condo.”
Damn! “Oh.”
“Where are you?”
Evan sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. So much for keeping his whereabouts a secret. “New Hope.”
“Dear boy! Have you been there the entire time?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Then you’ve seen Marta.” It wasn’t a question and Evan could hear the excitement in Winston’s voice.
“Yes. She’s a lovely young lady.”
“Well?” Winston demanded. “I need details.”
Evan tried to assemble an explanation that wouldn’t devastate the older man. At seventy-five, he didn’t need unnecessary stress, even if he still over-saw all of his company holdings.
“I’m working with her on a temporary basis.”
“Working? You’re supposed to be on vacation. Recuperating.”
“I know. I am. Honest.”
“Has she mentioned me at all?”
If anyone else had asked him that question, Evan would have replied without hesitation. She hates your guts and, oh, by the way, I’d like to go a few rounds with you for what you did to her.
However, because Winston had asked the question, and because Evan was committed to helping him right past wrongs, he offered a more neutral response.
“We’ve talked about you, yes.”
“And?”
“We’ve reached the stage where I can mention your name and she won’t throw me out of the room.”
“That bad?”
“Oh, not quite.” Close, he thought. Yet how could he say more? It would crush Winston to know how he’d single-handedly alienated his only granddaughter. “But I’m making progress.”
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