"Maybe that was the reason for the secrecy. Justin was married. He could still be my father."
"He didn't recognize your mother's name."
"No." She paused, caught back by that little fact.
"Don't you have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins -- someone you can ask for more information?"
"No one. My mother and I were all alone before she married Mitchell. She grew up in rural Minnesota, but her parents died when she was young. She was raised by a great-aunt who passed away when she was about eighteen. So she came to California and started out on her own."
"Everyone died?" Zach took another sip of his beer and set it back on the table. "That's convenient."
"Convenient," she echoed in annoyance. "What? You think she lied to me?" The words stuck in Katherine's throat, the thought that her mother could have lied to her...
"People lie all the time," Zach said.
"Not mothers."
"Especially mothers."
His tone was flat, hard and unforgiving, matching the stern expression on his face. He could change as fast as a chameleon, charming and sexy one minute, hard as nails the next.
"I don't think my mother lied to me," she said carefully.
"And you think her maiden name was Jones, which happens to be one of the most popular names in the world?"
"Some people are named Jones."
"And some people use names that help them fit into the crowd. People who don't want anyone to know who they really are. People who want to start fresh without their past biting them in the ass."
"I don't know anyone like that. I don't think we travel in the same circles," she said sharply, surprised by the flash of pain that raced through his eyes.
"Well, you got that right." He finished his beer, then set it down on the table with a bang. "I'll see you around."
"Wait," she said as he stood up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
"Sure you did, and you spoke the truth. We don't move in the same circles."
"Sit down -- please."
Zach sent her a long look, and then reluctantly sat back down.
She took a breath, then let it out. "I don't want to think my mother lied to me, but I can't explain why she would have a chest full of Kentucky memorabilia if she grew up in Minnesota."
His gaze didn't waver. "Doesn't that tell you something? Doesn't that imply that the past should be left alone?"
Before she could answer, Justin came back to the table.
"I was thinking about your question," Justin said. "Did your mother call herself Evie?"
"I don't know if anyone ever shortened it." Katherine's heart began to pound against her chest. "Why?"
"There was a girl named Evie who used to come in here. I think her picture is on the wall. Would you like to see it?"
"Yes, absolutely."
Justin took Katherine over to the wall of photographs, searching the pictures with his finger until he located the one he wanted. "This is it."
Katherine was almost afraid to step closer. Would she see her mother's face? Or a stranger? She took a deep breath while her gaze settled on the photograph of a woman seated at a table for two. The photo was in black and white, and the woman's face was in profile, her hair long and straight. She was thin and appeared to be young, although Katherine couldn't tell her age, nor could she tell if the woman was her mother. There was some resemblance, but the image was grainy and she couldn't get a clear look at her face.
"I don't know," she murmured.
Zach stepped up behind her to look at the photo, his warm breath teasing the back of her neck. For a moment she almost forgot what they were supposed to be doing.
"I recognize the guy, don't you, Justin?" Zach said.
"Sure do."
"Who is he?" Katherine asked, reminding herself to focus on the photograph and not on Zach. The man in the picture had long hair past his collar and an intense, serious expression on his face, as if he was discussing some world event.
"Jimmy Callaway," Zach replied.
"Jimmy?" Her heart skipped a beat.
"He runs the First American bank," Zach added. "He's lived here pretty much all of his life."
Katherine nodded as her mind processed the information. Both Jimmy and Justin started with a J. Either one of them could possibly be her father. She looked at Justin again. "Are you sure you don't remember an Evelyn Jones?"
He shook his head. "Evie is all I remember. But my father has some old photos stashed in the office, and probably down in the basement, too. He loved to capture people having a good time in his bar. He was pretty good about writing down people's names. All the racing folks come in here, especially when it gets close to the Derby. It's a tradition. If your mother was around during the Derby, she's probably in a photo somewhere. I'll have to dig 'em out for you."
"That would be great." Katherine felt the hope return to her heart. "I'm staying at the hotel. If you want me to help you look through the photos, I'd be happy to."
"I'll give you a call. It might be a big job. Pop never threw anything away."
"Well, that's a start," Katherine said, turning to Zach as Justin walked away. "Not bad for a few minutes work."
He gave her a reluctant smile. "You do like to look at the bright side. As far as I can tell, you got nothing."
"Maybe photos," she pointed out as they sat back down at their table. "And Jimmy Callaway. Evie is about as close to Evelyn as you can get. I think I'll pay Mr. Callaway a visit. Do you want to come with me?"
Zach shook his head. "I've had about all the excitement I can take for one morning."
"I know it seems silly to you, my searching for my father, but it's something I've thought about for years."
"Why now, Katherine? What made you decide to do it now?"
"Because of the letter. I grew up thinking that my father didn't want me, and my mom was afraid to tell me so. But when I read the letter that she wrote to him, that she was too afraid to send, I realized that he hadn't rejected me. He didn't even know about me."
"Are you sure your mother didn't just call him on the phone and tell him?"
"Of course I'm not sure. I'm not sure about anything, except that I need to know. You asked me why now. Because I've spent my whole life wondering why I wasn't good enough, why my father didn't want me, why all the people who were supposed to love me were gone. First my father, then my mother."
Zach didn't say anything, but his expression softened. His eyes held a hint of understanding, and it was that little hint that kept the words pouring out.
"I'm really not expecting my father to instantly love me," she added. "I know that relationships can take time."
"You are such a bad liar." His eyes bored into hers with an intensity she couldn't begin to fathom. "You want to have it all. Admit it."
"Fine. I want it all. Don't you? You are trying to win the Kentucky Derby, aren't you? That's no small feat, is it?"
He hesitated. "No, it's not. I want to win the Derby. I want to win it for myself and for Rogue, but I don't have any illusions about the rest of my life, and I know first hand that a blood tie doesn't mean a damn thing when it comes to happiness." Zach's eyes darkened. "The truth doesn't always set you free. Sometimes it becomes a prison from which you can never escape. Believe me, I know."
"I can't think that way, Zach."
"Just be careful that dream of yours doesn't take you places you don't want to go."
She licked her lips. With their heads so close together, his mouth was just inches from hers, his warm breath fanning her cheek. It would be so easy to kiss him. And as her eyes met his, she had the feeling he was thinking exactly the same thing.
Then he jumped to his feet. "I've got a horse to run," he said briskly. "And you've got a father to find. Maybe we should both get back to business.”
"You wanted to kiss me," she said boldly.
His eyes sparked. "Yes. But occasionally I think before I act. And I imagine once you start putting your list together, t
here will be a dozen or more good reasons why you shouldn't kiss me."
He was probably right about that, but she couldn't tell him so, because he was already gone.
* * *
Leeanne Callaway pulled the belt of her raincoat tighter as she paused inside the front door of the First American Bank. She felt a delicious thrill of anticipation. Jimmy would be surprised to see her. Especially when he found out what she was bringing him for lunch.
She walked into the bank, nodding and smiling at the loan officers and tellers on the main floor. Then she walked down the hall to the president's office. Jimmy's secretary, Shirley, whose desk was right outside Jimmy's door, was pulling her purse out of her desk.
"Hello, Leeanne," Shirley said, one eyebrow raised in surprise. "I didn't know you and Jimmy were having lunch together. He told me to get him a sandwich."
"Oh, we're not having lunch. I just stopped by to speak to him for a minute."
Shirley gave Leeanne's trench coat a curious look. "Is it raining outside? It was sunny when I came in this morning."
"You know April weather. It's so unpredictable."
Shirley didn't appear convinced, but like any good secretary, she knew when to keep her mouth shut. "Would you like me to get you a sandwich, too?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks."
"Well, tell Jimmy I'll be back in about fifteen minutes. I have to drop off a shirt at the cleaners.”
"I'll tell him," Leeanne said, her anticipation growing keener with the thought of Shirley's return in fifteen minutes. If they didn't do it fast, if they were caught... Oh, she felt so wicked, as if she were seventeen again, sneaking out the window at night, crawling down the trellis into Jimmy's old Chrysler.
She didn't bother to knock on Jimmy's office door. She simply walked in.
Jimmy didn't look up. "Tuna on white, Shirley, like always."
God, he was so predictable.
"Would you like some spicy mustard with that?" Leeanne said, her fingers drifting to the knot of her belt.
"Leeanne." Jimmy took off his reading glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. "What are you doing here?"
Jimmy had been better looking when they'd married, losing half his blond hair to age and most of his tan to long days in the bank. But his eyes were still a clear hazel, his hands big, his fingers long. Leeanne's body tingled at the thought of those hands. She knew exactly what he would do if they were at home, in bed, in the dark. Today, in his office, under the bright fluorescent lights... she could only imagine. She should have done this years ago. But Jimmy was always so uptight about being disturbed at work that she'd never tried anything so daring.
But disturbed be damned. She was disturbed -- discouraged by their lack of a sex life. Afraid she was going to grow old without a lover to take care of her. Terrified the man she'd married no longer wanted her the way he once had.
"I didn't know you were coming into town today," Jimmy said.
"I thought I'd surprise you." She walked over to the desk and leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth.
His mouth was cool and he pulled away far too quickly. "Leeanne, this isn't the place for that."
"Can't a wife kiss her husband hello?" Her fingers tugged at the knot of her raincoat's belt.
"Shirley will be back any minute with my sandwich. And I've got work to do." He looked down at the ledger in front of him and began pressing numbers on his calculator.
She frowned as a minute ticked by. "Jimmy. Aren't you going to talk to me?"
"I'm still off by twenty-seven dollars and fifty-two cents. It doesn't make sense."
"What's twenty bucks?"
"It's wrong. That's what it is," he replied without looking up.
She sighed. Any red-blooded American male should be happy to see his wife on his lunch hour. But she had to be married to the only man in the world who probably liked money more than sex. She felt intensely lonely -- again.
Now that the children were gone, she wanted to focus on her relationship with Jimmy. She wanted them to be the way they'd once been -- before work and children and mortgage payments had gotten in the way. But Jimmy wasn't helping. In fact, he didn't seem to notice there was anything wrong with their love life.
Squaring her shoulders, she decided it was time for a wake-up call. She walked around the desk, grabbed the arm of his chair, and spun it around so he was facing her. It wasn't an easy task because he was a big man, but determination gave her added strength.
Jimmy looked at her with annoyance. "Leeanne, I'm busy."
She dropped her hand to his belt. "I'm sure you can find a few minutes."
He looked horrified and pushed her hand away. "No!"
"Oh, come on."
"Absolutely not. What's gotten into you? Have you been watching those talk shows again?”
"Nothing's gotten into me -- yet."
He turned a bright beet red. "Leeanne!"
She untied the knot holding her coat in place. She opened up the edges, slowly, with tantalizing, teasing fingers, allowing him a peek at her naked body.
"Good Lord! You're not wearing a stitch." He darted a quick, panicked look at the closed door.
"I want to be wearing you." Leeanne shrugged out of the coat and let it drop to the floor. She was proud of her body, proud of the sleek muscles that she honed to perfection each day at the gym. She might be nearing fifty, but she didn't look it.
Jimmy didn't seem at all interested. In fact, he bent over and grabbed her coat off the floor. He stood up and tried to pull it around her. "Are you crazy? I work here. Shirley will be back any minute."
She took the coat out of his hands and tossed it across the desk. "That's why we have to hurry." She pressed her breasts against his chest. "Tell me you don't want me." She felt him through the crotch of his finely pressed trousers and was pleased by the response. "See, you can't lie."
"We'll do this tonight, at home," he said firmly, setting her aside.
"Come on, Jimmy. Let me loosen your pants. It will just take a few minutes. You know that," she added with a touch of irony.
"No. Forget it." He pushed her away from him with more force than he'd ever used on her. "I'm the president of this bank. I can't do this. I won't do it. And your father would have a heart attack if he knew you'd come into town dressed like that. Imagine what people would say.”
She was too hurt to imagine anything, too pained to care. She felt rejected and alone, and angry that she'd tied herself to the most boring man on the planet.
"Don't you ever have a fantasy?" she asked with despair ringing through her voice. "Don't you ever want to do it somewhere different, somewhere exciting? Don't you ever want it to be so passionate you feel like you could die?"
He walked around the desk and grabbed her coat off the floor. "There's a time for everything. This isn't it."
"It's not illegal to make love to your wife at work."
"It should be. Get dressed."
She took the coat from his hand, but didn't put it on. "Don't you want me?"
His expression softened slightly. "You know I do. But this isn't me, Leeanne. I can't do it here. Someone could walk in." He glanced back at the door. "I don't even have a lock."
"That makes it more exciting."
"I've never understood your need for so much excitement," he said with a bewildered expression in his eyes.
"And I've never understood why you don't want any excitement. At least not anymore. My big brother, Tom, used to say you were the wildest kid in his class. But you changed when you got older. When you graduated from college and came back, you were different. Something happened there, didn't it?"
He threw up his hands in amazement. "What are you talking about? College was a hundred years ago."
"Did some girl break your heart, Jimmy?" She searched his face for the answer. It was a question that had teased her for twenty something years, because there'd always been a part of Jimmy that she couldn't quite get to. "Do you still think about her?"
"There is no '
her.' For God's sake, Leeanne, you and I have been married for twenty-six years. Why on earth would you bring up some girl from college now?"
"Because I keep wondering why you don't want me. Why we've grown apart. You don't talk to me, Jimmy. I don't have a clue what's going on in your head. And you never discuss anything personal. Looking back, I think I always did the talking. Maybe now I should listen."
"Yes, you should listen. Go home, Leeanne. Stop imagining problems where there aren't any.”
"Did you love anyone before me?”
"No."
"You answered too quickly."
"There's no pleasing you. What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say something, anything, dammit. I feel like I'm hitting my head against a brick wall, and it's driving me crazy."
A knock came at the door.
"Oh, shit." Jimmy looked frantically from the door to her. "Get dressed, Leeanne." He reached for the doorknob so no one could turn it. "I'll be right with you," he called out. "I knew this was going to happen," he hissed under his breath as Leeanne slipped her arms into her coat and covered herself.
"Mr. Callaway?" a female voice said as the knock came again.
"Just a minute." He waited until Leeanne had tied the belt on her coat, then opened the door.
Leeanne was surprised to see a young, beautiful blonde standing in the hallway, a woman she'd never seen before.
"Mr. Callaway?" the woman said tentatively, her gaze drifting from Jimmy to Leeanne. "May I speak to you for a moment? I hope this isn't a bad time."
"No, it's fine. It's perfect," Jimmy said hastily. He took in a deep breath, then let it out. "Do you have a problem I can help you with?"
"It's not a banking problem."
Leeanne felt a catch in her stomach. There was something familiar about the girl, but she couldn't decide what. Nor could she understand what this young woman wanted with her husband or why her husband suddenly looked so uncomfortable.
"Oh, well, come in," he said.
"Thank you."
Leeanne stepped aside so the blonde could enter Jimmy's office. Her gaze narrowed as Jimmy tugged nervously at his tie. Why on earth was he so fidgety?
"Go home," Jimmy murmured to her. "We'll talk later."
"All right." Leeanne left the office, strolled a few feet down the hallway, then looked back. Jimmy hadn't shut the door. She took a quick glance to make sure she was alone, then tiptoed back down hall toward his office.
Almost Home Page 7
