by SUE FINEMAN
Stunned, Julie couldn’t speak for several seconds. “That could have been me. Or Andy.”
Donovan nodded. “If I have any say in the matter, Brent Bosch will never be free again. I don’t care if he lives in the hospital for the rest of his life or goes to prison, but this seals the deal. Whether the man is mentally unstable or not, he’s violent and dangerous.”
That was exactly what Julie had tried to tell her mother, only her mother wouldn’t listen. She only saw dollar signs.
“I never expected this to happen. Is Brent… Is he still in the hospital, or did they take him to jail?”
“He’s still there, but he’s in a more secure place.”
“I thought maybe they’d put him on some drugs to control whatever was wrong in his brain, but I never expected this to happen. After seeing that red room, I thought…” She sighed. “I don’t know what I thought.”
Donovan gave her a big hug and left her alone.
Guilt nibbled at her. She shouldn’t feel responsible for what happened, but she did. If she’d known Brent was this sick, she wouldn’t have gone out with him and he wouldn’t have gotten obsessed with her.
Andy poked his head in the door. “Julie? You okay?”
“Did your father tell you?”
“Yeah.” Andy sat beside Julie on the bed and pulled her into his arms to comfort her. He knew she felt bad about what happened. Brent was a violent man with a sick mind. He couldn’t harm her again, couldn’t lock her up in his luxury prison, couldn’t interfere in her business transactions, but it would be a long time before she could forget what he’d done. All because of his obsession with her.
Andy wouldn’t forget anytime soon either. If not for Brent, Julie wouldn’t have given him a second glance after she learned he was Charlie’s brother. He wouldn’t have brought her home to his condo. He wouldn’t have made love to her.
And he wouldn’t be falling in love.
Chapter Eighteen
As soon as Julie could speak without choking up, she called her parents. She should call Bob, but what could she say to the father of a killer? I’m sorry? I was afraid something like this would happen? It could have been me?
Mom answered the phone. “Hi, Mom. I know it’s late, but I need to speak with Dad.”
“He just went to bed.”
“This is important.”
“Julianne, I tried to call your apartment, but I got a recording that the phone had been disconnected.”
“I moved out. I’m staying with Andy’s parents right now. Mom, please. I need to speak with Dad.”
A few seconds later, her father came on the line. “Julie? Is something wrong?”
“Brent Bosch tried to attack a doctor in the hospital and in the scuffle, Brent killed someone. I thought you’d want to know, since you play golf with Bob tomorrow.”
“Oh, no,” he said on a groan. “What am I going to tell your mother? She’s still hoping you and Brent are going to make up and get married.”
“I told her that would never happen, but she doesn’t listen to me.”
“Me either.”
“I know, Dad. Did she tell you about the house Brent bought for me?”
“Yes. What about it?”
“There’s a room he fixed up especially for me. It has bars on the windows and no knob on the door. There’s no way out, Dad. It’s like a prison.”
“Dear God.”
“Tell Mom there are some things that are more important than money. Like freedom.”
Hannah tapped on the open door. “If that’s your parents, why don’t you invite them for Sunday dinner?”
Julie put her hand over the receiver. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. We’d love to meet them.”
Julie heard a click and knew her mother had picked up an extension.
“Dad? Hannah Kane is inviting you and Mom for Sunday dinner. We eat at six. The house is on Livingston Avenue.”
“The big house with the round room on the corner?”
“That’s it. Park on the side street, and wear something washable. The puppies are nearly housebroken, but they’re still messy eaters. Okay with you, Mom?”
“Of course. I’d love to have dinner with the mayor and his family.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you Sunday.”
Dad could tell Mom about Brent. Knowing what happened was bad enough. Julie didn’t want to talk about it with her mother.
There weren’t many things she could discuss with her mother these days. Since college graduation, Mom had been pushing her to find herself a rich husband. But that was Mom’s dream, not Julie’s. Mom grew up in a tiny little apartment in Columbus with her mother and little sister. From the time she was seven, she was responsible for taking care of her little sister, because their mother worked three jobs. Those experiences had shaped Mom’s life. Still, her desire to be rich at any expense didn’t make any sense. Dad made a decent living before his retirement, but it was never enough. Even with the money from the sale of Dad’s family farm, Mom would never have enough money to make her happy.
Julie slept in Andy’s bed that night. She didn’t want to be alone. Andy might still be flashing back to Andrew’s time, but he wasn’t crazy. She knew he’d never harm her or make her his prisoner.
Or kill her.
He snuggled closer. “What are you thinking about?”
“You, of course. How could I think of anything else when I’m in your arms?”
He kissed her, a long, passionate kiss that made her forget about everything but this man and this moment.
“Love me, Andy.” She needed to feel his love tonight.
They made slow, sweet love, and Julie knew this was love. He could turn into anyone he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop loving her. She wanted the delicious feeling to last forever.
The next day, still wrapped in thoughts of what Brent had done, Julie walked into Otis’s room to get him for dinner. He was stretched out on the bed, pale as a ghost. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t moving. “Pain,” he whispered.
“Do you need another pill?”
“Pills don’t help.”
Julie called the emergency number for the hospice nurse. She said she’d be right over, and she was. The nurse started an IV with a morphine drip, and minutes later, Otis slept peacefully, with his dog by his side.
Guilt nibbled at Julie that evening. Otis had been in pain, and she was too busy thinking about herself to notice. He needed full-time nursing care now. Julie knew he wouldn’t be around much longer. Death would be a blessing, a release from his suffering.
The nurse adjusted the IV, then settled in the chair in the corner with a romance novel. Julie quietly left the room and let him sleep.
<>
On Saturday, instead of going out to the farm to help Charlie plow the garden, Andy brought several of Paulina’s letters to Otis’s room. Paulina had used wax seals on the backs of the earlier envelopes, and in all these years, the seals had never been broken. Until now.
The first letter he read to Otis was a heart-breaker.
Dearest Andrew,
It’s been two weeks since you disappeared. Matthew has scoured the city looking for you, but no one has seen you. He’s frantic with worry not just for you, but for Betsy and Annie. The Army won’t give him a deferment and he doesn’t want to leave his wife and daughter all alone on the farm. I offered to move in with them, but my father won’t let me go. He’s so angry, and Mama cries all the time.
I’m pregnant, Andrew. I’m going to have your baby. Papa wants me to go to a home somewhere and give the baby up for adoption, but I won’t do that. I could never give up our child. It’s a part of you and me.
I love you so much and my heart breaks to think of living the rest of my life without you. Please, please come home. You don’t have to marry me if you don’t want, but I need to know you’re all right.
Love forever,
Paulina
“All those years, and she neve
r stopped loving you,” said Otis. “Having a baby outside marriage was a big deal in those days, and a lot of the women in the area shunned her. She had a tough life, even after she married Wallace Bedford. He was a lot older, and she thought he’d take care of her. I guess he did, in his own fashion, but he wasn’t a kind man. No, sir. He wasn’t kind at all.”
Andy read another letter and another, until he couldn’t bear to read any more. They were all filled with Paulina’s anguish. She knew Andrew couldn’t come home or he’d be there. He wasn’t the kind of man to run out on his responsibilities.
Otis fell asleep, and Andy escaped to the living room, where Julie was playing the piano. Seeing her sitting there, hands moving up and down the keys, with the soft music washing over her, he could think of nothing he wanted more than to have a home of his own, with Julie playing the piano for him, and their child playing at her feet. Andrew must have felt that way about Paulina. If he’d known she was pregnant, he would have taken her to Kentucky and married her no matter what her father said. She was too young to marry in Ohio without her parents’ permission.
Was this one of the issues from the past he was supposed to resolve? He couldn’t change the past. Could he change the future? He loved Julie as Andrew had loved Paulina, but he was no more ready for marriage than she was. Maybe he would be after he built the new house and Andrew’s inn, after he resolved the issues from the past, whatever they were. Would Julie still be around then, or would she tire of waiting and move on to someone else?
Julie looked up from the piano and stopped playing. “Andy, what’s wrong?”
He couldn’t tell her what he’d been thinking without asking her to marry him, and he knew that was what she wanted. What she expected. The logical outcome of their increasingly passionate relationship. Marriage. But it wouldn’t be fair to Julie to marry her and then leave her a grieving widow.
It was time to prepare a will.
Get his affairs in order.
<>
Julie baked two cherry pies for Sunday dinner. While they were cooling, she made the salad.
Hannah took chicken breasts out of the refrigerator. “Is there anything your parents can’t eat or don’t like?”
“Dad will eat nearly anything. Mom stays away from red meat, but she loves chicken.”
“This is a good recipe for a crowd. It’s easy to make.”
Hannah had been generous in sharing her recipes and her expertise in the kitchen. Julie had learned a lot since she’d been here. Mom didn’t like to cook, and she didn’t like anyone helping in the kitchen, so most of what Julie had learned to cook had come from Grandma’s cookbook.
“Hannah, about my mother…” Julie already felt the need to apologize, and her parents hadn’t arrived yet. “She’s a little… different.”
“You want different? My mother was a prostitute and con artist. I disowned her before the twins were born, and she died in prison. Billy was the only one of the kids who ever met her.”
“Oh my God. I had no idea. What about your father?”
“He was a police officer who was shot in the line of duty. I was twelve when he died. He and Donovan’s father were partners.”
Hannah finished fixing the chicken and slid the casserole dishes into the oven. “I know your mother encouraged you to marry Brent, and I know why. But your mother loves you, and I’m sure when she thinks it over, she’ll be grateful you had the good sense not to marry him.”
Maybe, but Julie wasn’t so sure.
“Men and money meant everything to my mother,” said Hannah. “She moved me around so much I never felt settled. This house, my grandparents’ house, was the only real home I’d ever known. When my grandfather left it to me, as rundown as it was, I knew I’d never leave here. The furnace was broken, the plumbing was shot, and dust was the glue that held everything together, but this was home.” She smiled. “It still is. This is where I belong, where I’ll always belong.”
Julie wondered where she belonged. “I used to love visiting my grandparents, but when they died, my father sold their farm so he could build my mother the new house she’d always wanted.”
“You’ll find a new home, somewhere to belong. And you’ll make new memories.”
The doorbell rang.
Her parents were here.
Mom gushed, as usual, and Julie stood back and let Hannah handle her. Donovan and Dad hit it off with a discussion about politics in the city, but Mom was more interested in the house and in which social clubs Hannah had a membership.
“I don’t join social clubs. If there’s not a greater purpose, like sponsorship of a charity, I don’t bother. I’m active in the Hospital Guild and I work with a group on the education and prevention of breast cancer, but I’m taking time off from both groups. We have a good friend staying with us now, and he’s very ill, so I’m staying close to home these days. Would you like to meet him?”
“Yes, I would.”
Julie followed them into Otis’s room. He was awake and chatting with his nurse. He glanced at Julie and winked, and then Hannah introduced Julie’s mother. “Olivia and her husband came for dinner. Will you be able to join us this evening, Otis?”
“Thanks, but I’d best stay right where I am. I’ll eat with the nurse.”
Hannah patted his hand, Mom said, “Nice to meet you,” and they left the room.
Otis grinned at Julie. “So that’s your mother.”
“That’s her.”
“Pretty lady.”
“Yes, she is.” How long had it been since she’d thought of her mother as pretty?
They ate in the formal dining room that evening. Andy and Charlie had been out playing with the puppies, and they came in just in time to sit down to dinner. The pups sat quietly at their feet, on their best behavior for a change.
Mom was on her best behavior that day, too, until Charlie said something about Brent. As soon as his name came up, Mom said, “He wants me to plan a wedding, but Julie said she doesn’t want to marry him.”
“Olivia,” said Dad, “this is not the time to—”
Mom ignored him. “Brent Bosch is—”
“Dangerous,” said Andy. “The man is crazy and violent. Did Julie tell you about the house?” Andy’s voice had a hard edge to it. He was angry, and so was Julie. In spite of everything that happened, Mom still thought Brent would make a good husband.
Donovan spoke up next. “Did Julie tell you what Brent did in the hospital?”
Mom shook her head, and Julie directed a glare at Dad. “You didn’t tell her?”
Mom looked around the table. “Tell me what?”
“He tried to attack the doctor, an attendant subdued him, and Brent killed the attendant,” said Donovan. “I hope Brent Bosch spends the rest of his life in a mental hospital or in prison. He’s not the kind of man who should be walking around free.”
Mom’s fork clattered to the plate and she rubbed her forehead. “Dear God.”
Finally, Mom understood. She wouldn’t listen when Julie tried to tell her Brent was unstable, but she listened to Donovan.
Hannah stepped into the discussion and thankfully changed the subject. “We love Julie like a member of the family, and we’re so happy to have her here helping with Otis.”
“Is Otis a member of the family?” Mom asked.
“Actually, he’s the grandson of the man who built the house, but that’s another story. Andy recently bought Otis’s farm, and he’s going to build a new house there.”
“And an inn overlooking the river,” Julie said.
“But a farm?” Mom looked like she was barely containing a sneer. She thought all farmers worked hard and lived poor, like Dad’s parents. She had the working hard part right, but some of the bigger farms were so efficiently run, they pulled in a lot of money. Still, it wasn’t the way Mom expected wealthy people to live.
“Andy’s land is going to be more valuable as the city expands in that direction,” said Julie. “It’s a good investment and
a peaceful place to live. Andy’s brother lives out that way, on the river.”
Dad cocked his head. “On the east side of town? I heard a rumor there’s a housing development going in on the other side of the county road from the riverfront homes. Luxury homes on a golf course.”
Julie hadn’t been in the office in several days, so she hadn’t heard the rumor. “Who is developing the property?”
“Robertson and Sons. He and his wife live out that direction. I spoke with him at the clubhouse just yesterday.” Dad looked over at Andy. “You made a wise purchase, young man.”
Mom had a new gleam in her eye and a new target. Poor Andy.
Charlie raised his head and sniffed. “Do I smell pie?”
Leave it to Charlie to lighten the mood. Julie stood. “I’ll get it.”
Andy followed her into the kitchen and gave her a big hug.
“Hey, it’s getting hungry in here,” Charlie called. “Whatever you two are doing, cut it out. Cut the pie instead. Make mine super-sized.”
“I’ll give him the smallest piece,” she whispered to Andy.
Andy’s body heaved with barely controlled laughter.
<>
When Julie checked her post office box Monday morning, she found advertisements for house insurance, a bill from Smith’s Lawn Service, and an electric bill for the house on Manor Drive. Unsure who really owned the house, she called one of her father’s golfing buddies. James Clancy was an attorney in River Valley. She explained the situation to him. “If the house is really mine, I want to have some work done on it so I can sell it. If it’s not mine, I want my name removed from the deed and the bills sent to whoever. Can you handle that?”
“Absolutely. I’ll call Cole Williamson this morning and get the status on the property. I have an hour free at two. Would that be convenient for you?”
“Two is fine. I’ll see you then.”
Mr. Clancy’s office was in a stately old building off Central Avenue in downtown River Valley. His hair was going gray, but he was a handsome man with a charming smile. Looking at his posh office, she wondered how much this visit would cost her. She should have asked before she came.
