The past had left its mark. He liked to take the safe route. And he didn't consider her safe. Because she coaxed him to feel? And in the past that had led to disappointment?
Her promise to Carey nagged at her as she circled the block and started back toward the house. Was she breaking a trust with Mitch by not telling him about Carey? If he found out, would he forgive her? What she needed to do was convince him to talk to Carey. If Carey realized how much Mitch did care... The thought stepped up her pace.
Laura loved the wind, the taste of winter on her lips, the crunch of leftover snow under her boots. As she approached the driveway, Mitch stepped outside. His hair ruffled in the breeze. His disheveled hair and slight beard shadow made him look rumpled and sexy.
Mitch watched Laura as she moved toward him. He couldn't believe they'd made love in the car last night! Their fumbling hands, their clothes in the way, the cold air making their heat that much more scalding, her hands inside his shirt, his hands slipping down her panties... He'd never been that excited in his life. Maybe for the first time he understood the allure of danger, risk, impulse. His body heated up thinking about it, let alone looking at her now. She was beautiful with her hair mussed, her cheeks red. He'd never seen a woman look so good or affect him so deeply.
Laura frowned as Mitch met her in the middle of the walk and he asked, "What's wrong?" He stayed a few steps away. One touch. Just one touch and he'd catch on fire.
"I thought Carey might decide to come over this afternoon. But I don't see his motorcycle so I guess he's not here."
"Carey does what he pleases, when he pleases."
"Have you two ever really talked?"
"About what?" Mitch felt compelled to ask although it was against his better judgment.
Her hands flew through the air. "Life! Your life, his life, what the two of you think and feel about each other."
What had gotten into her? Sure, he'd tried to talk to Carey. But they ended up arguing. The tension between them had always been there, fed by their father. That was too painful to explain.
Mitch shrugged and fell back on a viable excuse. "Carey's never around."
She became more agitated. "He's around now. He's been here almost as long as I have. You and I have found time to talk."
They'd found time to do much more than that, but he decided not to remind her right now. "Carey and I have trouble talking."
"Like me and Dad." The agitation left Laura. She reached up and traced the scar on his cheek, as if he was the only thing that mattered in the world. "Tell me how you got this."
Her caring brought a lump to his throat. He forced himself to swallow it. "It was the Fourth of July. Carey got a hold of fireworks."
She frowned, her nose wrinkling at the bridge in the way he loved. All emotion left his voice as he remembered. "He had friends who knew where to get them. I found out where they were going to set them off. Like always, I thought I'd fix it, stop him, make him see reason."
"But you couldn't?"
"I was too late."
"What happened?"
Mitch shoved his hands deep in his jacket pockets, reliving the fear for his brother. "Carey was too close. He didn't have any protective gear. When he lit the fuse, I pulled him out of the way. We landed on the ground and when the firecracker exploded, some of it hit me."
She touched the scar again as if to make any pain he'd suffered go away. "You were lucky it missed your eye."
"Yes, I was." He stood perfectly still.
"And Carey feels responsible."
"He shouldn't. It was an accident," Mitch explained for the umpteenth time in his life.
"He caused it."
Mitch pulled his hands out of his pockets and started to toward the door. "I've been through this before. I don't blame him."
She grabbed his arm. "How could you not?"
Mitch stopped. "He's my brother!"
She said gently, "That doesn't mean you weren't and aren't angry with him for it."
He wished she'd stop playing therapist but he realized she thought she was helping. He sighed. "I might have been when I was a teenager. Kids can be cruel. But I've always felt more protective than angry. That's what's led us to where we are today. I don't know what I could have done differently. I could have stood back like I'm trying to now, but he needed me."
She released his arm. "He needs you now, too."
Mitch's hand mowed restlessly through his hair. "He needs money and he sees me as the all-beneficent giver. I can't give it to him this time, Laura. If I do, he'll never grow up. I can give him advice. I can give him support. I could even give him a job if he wanted it."
"Have you told him all that?"
"He won't listen. We end up arguing. He thinks I hate him."
"And you don't."
The understanding in her eyes melted all his defenses and reached to the emptiness she had begun to fill. "If anything..."
"What? What's between you and Carey besides an accident?"
"Our father's between us. He loved Carey. He didn't love me." The hurt in his voice was so evident, he felt like a child exposing his soul.
Laura wrapped her arms around his chest and held tight. Mitch blinked back sudden tears. He'd thought he'd shed them all when he was five.
After a few minutes, Laura leaned back. "I wonder if he loved either of you. Maybe he tolerated Carey because he didn't cross him and he pretended to get along. But if he let him get away with everything you've said, if he didn't try to discipline, or hug him, he didn't love him any more than you."
"He didn't want to put Carey in foster care."
"Mitch!"
"I cost too much. I heard him and Mom arguing one night."
The words had come out in a spurt. Laura was stunned. No wonder Mitch didn't trust love. No wonder he was afraid to feel. What that must have done to his self-worth! His life.
"Oh, Mitch."
He broke her hold and stepped back. "I don't want your pity."
His face was taut, his jaw clenched. His tight fists added to the telling picture. He didn't want her to see him expressing this much emotion, this much vulnerability. And part of him resented her for bringing it all to the surface.
She stepped up to him, knowing he wouldn't retreat because he was a strong man, not a coward. But he didn't have to be so tough, and someone had to teach him that.
Laura framed his face with her hands and smoothed over the tense lines around his mouth with her thumbs. "I don't pity you, Mitch. I hurt for you." She couldn't suppress the tears welling in her eyes any more than she could suppress the love in her heart. She didn't say the words because he wasn't ready to hear them. When she gave her "I love you" for the first time, she wanted it to be believed and cherished, not doubted or analyzed.
She could feel the change in him happening slowly, the knowledge seeping through him that she truly shared his pain and wouldn't mock or belittle what he saw as weakness. His shoulders lost their rigidity as his arms came around her to pull her close.
He rested his chin on top of her head and his husky baritone vibrated through her when he spoke. "What is it about you that makes me say out loud things I've never told anyone? Things I've hardly admitted to myself. I've spent my life trying to forget."
"That's the problem. You've been burying instead of healing. Talking about it and sharing it helps start the process. If I hadn't had George and Anne to talk to after Doug died, I'd still be blaming myself--"
"Why?" He pushed back and gazed down at her, still holding her securely.
"Because we'd argued before he left. He wanted me to go sailing with him. Mandy had had an ear-ache the day before and I didn't want to leave her with anyone. I certainly couldn't take her along. He didn't understand that. He said he was tired of coming second, that it had been that way since she was born."
"It should be that way," Mitch erupted.
"Not entirely," Laura disagreed. "There are times when a child comes first and there are times when a husband comes
first. I knew that with my mind. But the smaller the child, the greater the immediate needs. And after Doug left, I felt so guilty, like I was a bad wife, like I could have made him feel more important. And when I never got the chance to see him alive again--"
He sifted her hair through his fingers and stroked soothingly. "The guilt took over."
"Yes. Until I talked about it over and over again with Anne and George. They knew me. They knew Doug. They didn't judge. They could be objective and help me get some perspective. I finally realized his death wasn't my fault. He chose to go sailing. He chose to stay out in the storm."
"If he had cared more about you and Mandy, he wouldn't have gone. Period."
Mitch's protective instincts were aroused again. He would put his wife and child first. But she had to be fair. "I don't know about that. I do know Doug and I were growing in different directions. But because I loved him, I blamed myself for what happened. Just like you blame yourself. You couldn't do anything about your father. He had a disease, Mitch. That's what alcoholism is. He couldn't love you--not like you needed to be loved. It's not your fault your mom stayed with him. It's not your fault Carey got into trouble."
His hands stopped stroking. "I felt it was. I felt responsible."
"Children in alcoholic families often do."
"How do you know so much?"
She grinned. "I watch talk shows."
His brows arched and he looked disbelieving. "As if you have time."
She shook her head. "I do. Anne records them and we watch the good ones after Mandy goes to bed. But it's not only that. I know a couple of people who've faced the same problem."
Mitch's hands rested on the warmth of her neck. His fingers were cold but his palms were hot. "George or Anne?"
"I'd rather not say."
He kissed her forehead. "I understand. Confidences are important."
She hoped to heaven he felt that way once he knew about Carey.
They walked inside together. After shedding their coats, they went to the living room. Mandy was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace dressing her doll. But Laura's eyes shot to Ray and Nora on the sofa. She could have sworn they'd been holding hands. Nora's cheeks were flushed. Her father looked like the cat who swallowed the canary.
Laura's eyes switched to Mitch. How would he feel about a relationship between his mother and her father? How did she feel about it? Seeing the smile on her dad's face, she didn't have to think about it long. He wouldn't be lonely any more.
Nora stood and excused herself. After a puzzled look from Mitch and a shrug from Ray, Laura followed Nora to the kitchen.
Nora was crouched in front of a lower cabinet, shifting saucepans.
"Need some help?" Laura offered.
Nora kept her head down. "No. I'm looking for a muffin pan. Thought I'd make some biscuits to go with the stew."
"Nora?"
"What?"
"Are you upset about something?"
Nora took the muffin pan from the side of the cabinet and stood up. "No. What would I be upset about?"
She was pulling one of her son's tricks. Only she wasn't as good at it. "You could have stayed with Dad. I can mix flour, milk, shortening and baking powder."
"There's no point in me staying with your father. Nothing can come of it."
"Why? If you enjoy each other's company..."
"Laura, I told you before I'm not good enough for him."
"Nonsense!"
That made Nora smile. "Maybe your father and I can be friends. But that's it. Believe me. I've been around a lot longer than you. Some things don't change."
"What things?"
"Things that have nothing to do with you, things you couldn't understand."
"I understand Mitch had a rough childhood. I understand you held your family together as best you could."
"But you can't understand why I had to stay with a man who had no strength in him, a man who didn't love his children, a man who was drunk more than he was sober." Nora's eyes were filled with sadness and regret.
"Why did you stay?"
"Because I was afraid not to." Nora turned away, ending the conversation.
Laura pulled the canister of flour forward on the counter, knowing Nora was hiding something private. But she couldn't figure out what.
***
When Carey entered the store Monday afternoon, Laura's heart plummeted. The grin on his face, the air of excitement about him, portended trouble. She glanced over her shoulder. Mitch was still in the office.
Carey waited for Laura by the porcelain display as she gave a customer change and gift wrapped the small box. After she wished the woman a merry Christmas, Carey motioned to her to join him.
Sonya was taking care of a client who came into the store a few moments before. Laura went to Carey.
He shifted from one foot to the other as if he couldn't stand still. "This is it." He fumbled in his jacket pocket and opened his hand to show her a scrap of paper with scribbling on it. "I'm going to show my brother he's not the only one who can be a success."
"Placing a bet won't make you a success," she whispered sharply.
He spared her a quick surprised glance and his brows knit together in a frown. "Turning judgmental on me too? I didn't expect that from you."
She softened her tone, afraid he wouldn't listen if she came on too strong. "Think about what you're doing, Carey, and why you're doing it. What if this doesn't turn out the way you expect? Are you going back to gambling for a living?"
He looked blank as if he hadn't thought about it. "Of course not. I told you one last time is all it'll take."
"And if the tip doesn't pan out? If this wonder horse happens to get indigestion today or something else happens and he loses?"
"That won't happen."
She shook her head. "In some ways you and Mitch are alike. You can't see what's in front of your nose." She was leaving in two days and it looked as if Mitch was going to let her fly out of his life without a word to stop her. The tension and the possibility of not seeing him again were getting to her.
Carey swore and rubbed his hand over his face, a gesture she recognized as one Mitch used when he was upset. "Mitch and I have the same parents. That's it. And what I see is that money will make me his equal."
"Is that what you really want?" Laura demanded.
Carey raised his hand impatiently. "What I want is for him to admire me the way I admire him. What I want is for him to know I regret the trouble I caused and all the mistakes I made. When Dad was alive, it's like I knew who I was. I was his son. And even though he wasn't the best father, I felt...anchored...like I knew I belonged. After he died, I was lost. I didn't know which end was up. Mom was working all the time to keep a roof over our heads. Mitch did everything right. He helped her and watched out for both of us. I didn't know where I fit, if I fit."
Laura stepped closer to him and touched his elbow. "I understand, Carey, I do. When my mother died, the whole world turned upside down. Nothing was the same."
Another customer came in the door along with a blast of cold air. The interruption broke their bond of understanding.
Carey stepped back. "I'll let you take care of business. I have to get there before the fourth race. See you at supper." He gave her a thumbs up sign she didn't return.
After the door closed behind Carey, Laura asked herself one question again and again. Should she tell Mitch?
Ten minutes later, she was still agonizing when Mitch came out of the office, the worry lines around his eyes deep. "Can I see you inside?"
She followed him, her heart thumping madly. Maybe he was going to ask her to stay. Or maybe... Had something happened to her dad? Had he spent too much time in the store yesterday and he'd overtaxed himself?
"What is it? It's not Dad? He hasn't--"
Mitch grasped her shoulders gently, his gaze telegraphing reassurance. "No, Ray's fine. He's going to be stronger than ever. You got that?"
Laura nodded and felt color
come back to her cheeks. "What is it then? You look worried."
He gave her a small smile as if to thank her for noticing. But then his concern wiped it away. "Mom called. She's afraid Carey's on his way to the track. He asked her for money and she gave him too much." Mitch thumped his fist on the desk. "I can't believe she gave it to him. How could he have taken it?"
When Laura didn't move, when she didn't respond, Mitch tensed. "Did you know about this?"
Dread began climbing through her body. "Carey was just here..."
"In the store?"
She nodded.
He stepped away as if he'd been burned. "You knew he was going to the track?"
She nodded again.
"And you didn't stop him?" he exploded.
"How was I supposed to stop him?" she shot back before thinking.
"You could have come for me!" His exasperated expression asked her why she didn't think of that.
"And what would you have done? Tied him down?"
He jerked his jacket from the coatrack. "Maybe. I'm sure as hell going to do something like it when I catch up with him. I just hope I can grab him before he places the bet."
That was the worst thing Mitch could do. Yes, money was at stake, but so was Carey's decision whether to stay straight or not. If Mitch took that choice out of his hands... "Maybe he won't," she said quietly.
"Are you crazy? He's been gambling since he was twelve. But this time it's more than odd dollars he's going to lose. It's Mom's savings."
She couldn't stay silent any longer. If Carey wouldn't tell Mitch, she had to. It could make the difference. "He hasn't gambled for the past six months, Mitch. He's a member of Gambler's Anonymous now and he hasn't placed a bet since he started attending the meetings."
Mitch's one arm was in the jacket, the other free. He froze. "When did you find this out?"
"The night of the Halloween party."
Mitch slid into his jacket absently.
The news didn't seem to affect him and she had to make sure he understood. "He's trying to start a new life. When you wouldn't give him the loan, he became desperate and decided a good tip was his last chance to--"
"You've known about this? All along?" Mitch reared back as if she'd punched him. His face was frozen and rigid. Betrayed.
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