Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6

by Patricia Hagan

  Jade stared at him in horror yet knew it was the only plausible explanation. Tears she could no longer suppress spilled from her sad eyes to trail pitifully down her ashen cheeks.

  His heart went out to her, for he felt her anguish. He reached to pull her to her feet, folded his arms about her to draw her close against his chest. With his chin resting atop her head, he nuzzled the softness of her silky red hair. “I feel your pain,” he murmured, “but believe me when I say I’m going to make it go away. I’m going to do my damnedest to make you love me so much you’ll forget he ever existed.”

  Abruptly, she pulled back from his embrace to stare up at him, as though she might find in his expression a hidden meaning, an answer, to this madness. She was no longer crying, and she suddenly seemed afire with renewed spirit.

  “Swear to me, Bryan,” she commanded in a dread whisper. “Swear to me that everything you’re telling me is the truth.”

  He was quick to respond, dismayed that she could doubt him. “Of course! Every word. As I told you, the Pinkerton detectives are highly reputable. They never make their report until they’re sure of everything in it.

  “Believe me,” he went on, “when I tell you that it looks as though Colt wasted no time in remarrying. The detectives said they couldn’t find any other address for him once he’d arrived in New York except the one where he’s living now. Which means—”

  “Which means,” Jade interjected icily, “that it had to be someone he met on the ship because he didn’t know any women in New York. Damn him!”

  She whirled about in furious frustration. “How could he have done it?” she cried. “No period of mourning! Nothing! Why, he was probably married on the ship!”

  Reluctantly, Bryan told his first lie. “No, but within a few weeks after arriving here, I’m told.”

  She bit down on her lower lip thoughtfully, eyes narrowed in malignant concentration. “What is his wife’s name?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No. I suppose not.”

  He told his second lie. “They didn’t put that in the report.” He reached out for her again, but she stiffly resisted. His arms fell away, and with all the adoration he felt for her mirrored on his face, he implored, “Jade, you’re going to have to put him out of your mind. Colt has another wife now, who’s going to have his child. Forget him. Don’t you see?” He clutched her shoulders despite her struggle against him. “Colt might be alive, but your marriage is dead. Over. You can’t go back now.

  “Would you even want to?” he challenged. “Knowing he didn’t care enough to wait even a little while, if only for the sake of appearance? As painful as it is for you to realize, as much as I hate having to say it, the truth is, he couldn’t have loved you very much or he wouldn’t have acted so hastily. He’d have hidden away with his grief, as I did. My God, I was on my way to my island to kill myself when I met you. That’s how torn and lost I felt after Marnia died. Think about it, Jade. Colt never really loved you. He couldn’t have, if he—”

  “Stop!” she screamed, jerking away from him and covering her ears with her hands. “Stop it! I won’t listen to any more.”

  Just then there was a knock on the door, and Bryan’s secretary hesitantly peered in to apologetically announce, “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but Mr. Debnam is here for his appointment, and he’s very impatient.”

  Bryan clenched his fists in frustration at the interruption. “He’ll have to wait. I’m busy.”

  The young woman looked uncertain, stammered, “But—but he says he’s in a hurry, because he’s leaving for Europe tomorrow and has other appointments today, and—”

  Enraged, Bryan cried, “I don’t give a damn. I said I can’t see him today.”

  At that, Jade declared, “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you from your work.” She hurried across the room, rushing by his startled secretary.

  Bryan started after her, calling for her to wait, but suddenly found the doorway blocked by a very large and very angry man who bluntly informed him, “You will see me today, Stevens, because your company made a hell of a big error on my statement, and I want it straightened out before I leave tomorrow.” He pushed his way inside the office, closed the door soundly behind him.

  Jade lifted her long velvet skirts as she hurriedly made her way down a narrow stairwell. She paused inside the doorway, breath coming in ragged gasps of wretchedness, just long enough to retie her bonnet snugly about her head and gather her fur cape tightly to ward off the chill before rushing from the brownstone building. She then walked swiftly to what was called the “Flatiron Corner”, the best-known corner in New York at the intersection of Broadway, Fifth Avenue, and Twenty-third Street. Near the shopping district, it was busy at all hours, especially on this late afternoon when snow was thickly falling and people were rushing to get home before they found themselves completely marooned beneath a frigid white blanket. She did not know where she was going and, for the moment, did not care. The snow caused her no anxiety, accustomed as she was to the deep drifts and frenzied blizzards of Russia.

  Aimlessly, she began to walk up Fifth Avenue, her mind reeling with only one thought: Colt was married…married…married… The words echoed loudly, painfully inside her head like the ringing of a death knell. Dear God, to think that he now slept with another woman, revered her as his wife, that she was carrying his baby inside her.

  The knowledge hurt, so badly that pain was a white-hot knife carving into Jade’s very soul.

  What could she do about it?

  What did she even want to do about it?

  She could never go to Colt thinking that if he knew she was actually alive he’d leave that other woman, whoever she was, and their baby, to come back to her. Whatever it was—egoism, pride—it would stop her from contemplating, or allowing, such a thing to occur.

  So what happened next?

  She could turn the ashes of a once brightly flaming love that had obviously been merely infatuation, a folly, to Colt, into embers of indignation and rage.

  Hating him would make the disappointment of her love-dream easier to bear, but other than teaching herself to loathe him and the formerly bright and tender memories, she had no plans.

  She knew only that she had no intention of returning to Russia.

  Her future was here, in America.

  Bryan, her heart told her, could be a very important part of that future. Was that what she wanted? She was not sure, not yet. Her heart, her mind, had just been hit by a thunderbolt of anguish, and time was needed to absorb and deal with the damages inflicted.

  She paused on a corner as a fire engine raced by, horses at a gallop, earth trembling as the hatless fireman driving leaned forward with arms out straight and held tightly to the reins. Behind him were the long ladder-wagon chutes with firemen clinging, coats flapping in the frigid winds. Then, farther behind, there was a crowd of small boys, excitedly running to follow the firemen in delighted anticipation of the faraway day when they would, hopefully, be among the brave men clinging to the wagons.

  Jade crossed the street, noting the skies were growing dark, not caring that night would soon fall behind the cloak of gray snow clouds. Had she not changed their plans, she was to have met Bryan at his office later, when the stores closed, and they were to have taken a hackney to his club near Central Park, where they’d dine before taking a late train home. Now she wished it were not snowing, for she would have liked to engage a hackney and ride endlessly up and down Fifth Avenue, could have done so for hours in an attempt to deal with her turmoil, since the cost was nominal—fifty cents to ride twenty blocks. But the weather was becoming worse, and she knew she had to seek shelter from it.

  Perhaps, she thought a bit remorsefully, she should not have walked out of Bryan’s office in such a hurry. After all, he was the one and only friend she had in America, and he’d been there for her when no one else had. What, dear God, would she have done without him? She shuddered to think. He’d done much more than save her life when he’d mi
raculously found her adrift in the ocean—he’d given meaning to her life when there had been none.

  Such thoughts provoked warm, grateful memories, and suddenly she wished he were there, beside her, giving her a hand to cling to amidst the turbulence of her life.

  And suddenly, like a prayer answered…he was.

  She felt firm fingers clasp her hand, and she glanced up to meet his anxious blue eyes. “Never run away like that again,” he said, his voice a blend of relief and indignation. “I’ve been running around like a madman looking for you.”

  She squeezed his hand in grateful greeting, felt a wave of guilt to have worried him so. “I’m sorry.” Her smile was subdued, but radiated all the same from deep within, where affection for him fought to ignite amidst the painfully smothering ashes of her love for Colt. “I just needed to be alone to try and think things out. This is quite a shock, Bryan.”

  He was at once tender, supportive. “Of course it is. God knows I hated having to tell you, but I wasn’t about to try to hide it from you. We both knew the ghost was there between us, but…” He paused to bestow a lopsided grin of apology, then candidly admitted, “The truth is, I wish they’d found out he was dead.”

  She looked at him for a long time as she contemplated his frankness, then finally nodded. “That’s what they did find out, Bryan,” she whispered. “For all intents and purposes, Colt is dead.”

  His brows raised in wide-eyed hope. “You’re going to try and forget him?”

  “I have no other choice,” she confirmed with a shrug. “I’m certainly not going to run to wherever he is and make a fool of myself. He’d probably never leave his wife and child for me, anyway, and quite frankly, even though I loved him more than I thought it possible to love any man, I can’t say that I’d want him to leave them. It’s obvious,” she added bitterly, “he didn’t feel the same about me.”

  In spite of her sadness, Bryan couldn’t help his cry of joy at her decision. He grabbed her in a fierce hug. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that!” He released her to wave at a passing hackney. “Come on. I had a surprise waiting for you before all this came up, and now’s the time to show it to you.”

  He refused to answer her questions as he directed the driver to an address on Riverside Drive, ignored her protests as she wailed she did not feel like visiting anyone.

  “You’re going to love it,” he mysteriously assured her. “Relax and enjoy the ride.”

  The carriage eventually drew to a stop in front of a large and breathtakingly beautiful ornamental iron gateway. Beyond, at the end of a sweeping cobbled driveway, was a huge two-story house constructed of rough stone. Even from the street, Jade was awed by the magnificent glass and sculptured iron doorway, the symbol of the wealthy class of New York. Despite her misery, she curiously asked, “Who lives here?”

  Bryan grinned, reached to open the carriage door with a dramatic sweep before proudly announcing, “Why, you do, my dear. Welcome home!”

  Jade blinked, confused, and stared at him in bewilderment as he paid the driver. The grand front doors then opened, as though she and Bryan had been expected, and a white-costumed housekeeper and black-uniformed butler stepped out in respectful greeting.

  Bryan, enjoying the moment, extended his arm, which Jade absently took, and they began to make their way from the gate, snowflakes kissing their faces.

  “I bought this house because I thought you’d like your own place, away from memories of Marnia,” Bryan gently explained, “and I also thought you’d enjoy living in the city, in the midst of everything. It’s a long way to commute to the Hudson Valley.”

  Jade was stunned, knew before she even entered the gorgeous house that it was going to be sumptuous, lavish, with all the luxuries money could buy. Looking up at him in grateful wonder, she asked simply, “But why?”

  He kissed the tip of her nose, then smiled. “Because it’s the first step of my promise, princess, to make you love me so much you’ll forget there ever was a Colt Coltrane.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut in painful retrospection, then flashed them open to brightly shine as she declared, with a pixielike wrinkle of her nose, “Well, Mr. Stevens, even if you don’t succeed, at least we’ll both enjoy your trying.”

  He accepted her humor, love and desire mirrored on his face as he huskily proclaimed, “Oh, but I’m going to succeed, my dear. Believe that.”

  They toured the house, with its huge reception hall, twin parlors downstairs, library, dining room, ballroom, kitchen, pantry, and glassed-in day porch. Then they ascended the curving mahogany stairway to an upper receiving foyer leading to three separate wings. Each wing contained separate serving pantries so guests could receive breakfast or tea in their suites, as well as small music parlors and reading rooms.

  In the wing fronting the river, however, there were two bedrooms at the end, large, spacious, and joined by a sitting room dominated by a huge stone fireplace.

  “This will be our quarters,” Bryan said with a flourish as they stood, hand in hand, in the middle of the sitting room. He turned to give her a warm look. “But we won’t need both bedrooms, my darling,” he whispered. “Just one. I never want to sleep one night without you in my arms.”

  Jade started to turn away, to escape the moment she was not yet ready to face, but Bryan grabbed her arm and whirled her roughly about to hold her tightly against him. “Dammit, Jade, stop running from reality,” he ordered. “Admit that you love me! Say it!”

  Her head fell backward beneath the delicious assault of his hungry, teasing lips. “I can’t,” she gasped. “Not the way you want me to.” She tried to shake her head from side to side in emphasis, but he moved a hand upward to hold her neck in a viselike grip.

  “Think of all the hours we’ve spent in each other’s arms.” His mouth attacked the warm, soft flesh of her jawline. “Think how good it was…naked flesh melded against naked flesh, every nerve in our bodies on fire with desire. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever known before. You satisfy me completely, in every way—a regal princess in public, a shameless hussy in my bed—”

  “Bryan, no…” She struggled against him, for his words, his lips, his warm breath against her flesh, all were combining to ignite the familiar rush of feelings…feelings she did not want to have just now, not in the wake of so much unexpected anguish. “Let me go, please…”

  His laugh was short, brittle, almost maniacal as he echoed, “Let you go? Never, Jade. Don’t you understand that?”

  Suddenly he was sober, and his eyes became angry slits. His hand at the back of her neck tightened menacingly, and his voice shook with emotion as he decreed, “Now that I’ve found you, now that I’ve come to love you more than life itself, I won’t let you go, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me. If it takes my dying breath to do it, I’m going to make you love me…and I swear to you, I’ll never let you go.”

  “Bryan, you’re hurting me,” she cried, frightened. Never had she seen him so adamant or forceful, and the look in his eyes, cold, glittering with malice…it was terrifying.

  At once, he released her, and apologized. “I’m sorry. You make me do strange things, Jade, when I think I might lose you.”

  She did care for him, she thought. And what he said was true, they had shared wonderful, magic hours of passion. There was no doubt that he was as perfect a lover as Colt, awakening all sorts of secret delights within her. What, she wondered suddenly, almost frantically, would she do if he stepped out of her life? She would be totally alone, but that was not what filled her with such a feeling of misery. She was self-sufficient, self-confident, would be able to cope, somehow, but to think of not having Bryan to share her hopes and dreams and, yes, the sadness that life could sometimes bring—it was all more than she liked to think about.

  “Will you marry me, Jade?”

  She stared at him thoughtfully, feeling the warmth in her heart at just his nearness.

  “If you care for me at all, it�
��s enough.” He gave her a gentle shake. “Bury the goddamned ghost, Jade, before it destroys both our chances for happiness in this life!”

  She closed her eyes, swayed ever so slightly with the wonder of the moment and the sudden awareness that, had she never met Colt; had, instead, encountered Bryan, then he would have been the nucleus of all her dreams of love and happiness. He was, she knew, all she could ever ask for, or want, in a man.

  So why not give in to the impulse to return his love wholly and completely?

  Why hold back?

  She took a deep breath, held it, let it out slowly, then smiled up at him softly, warmly, her body trembling with the overwhelming emotion of the words she was about to speak. “Yes, Bryan, I’ll marry you. Just give me a bit of time, to think, to plan, to get used to the idea…

  “…and,” she finished with a laugh and a careless wave of her arm, “to redecorate this huge and glorious house and make it even more grand and glorious.”

  “Oh, you shall have it!” he exclaimed, lifting her up in his arms to whirl her around and around in jubilation. “Along with anything else you ever want. I’m going to make you the happiest woman in the whole world, I swear it!”

  Then he set her on her feet, and their eyes met and held in adoration and the silent promise of the future. When, at last, he kissed her, Jade responded with fervor and determination.

  The ghost was buried forever, she told herself, but all the while a thousand needles stung into her heart, for try as she might, with her eyes shut and Bryan’s strong arms holding her close, his lips melded against her own…Colt’s face was still before her…in the shadow of her dreams.

  Chapter Eighteen

  On the surface, it seemed as though Jade had accepted the cruel, crushing blow that fate had dealt her. Inside, however, a struggle of emotions waged war between head and heart. Bryan could not understand her refusal to set a wedding date. She pleaded for time, to deal with the myriad emotions running wild within. He countered by saying she was only prolonging the complete letting go of the past by not facing the future.