Tess winced. "Geoff did contact me. He swore you acted with little provocation. I can see—as usual—he lied."
Rowan's hand went to her face. She kept forgetting about the bruise. The pain was long gone, the color now more green and yellow than black and blue.
"You admit Geoff lies? What brought about that revelation?"
"I've always known." Tess sipped her water. When she looked at Rowan, her eyes were troubled. "I'm sorry."
"For…?"
"Everything. Anything. For making excuses for Geoff's weakness. For making him weaker by ignoring the problem."
Tess spoke the truth. However, Rowan found no satisfaction in hearing the words. Not when they caused her mother so much distress.
"Geoff's a big boy. You aren't responsible for what he does."
Rising, Tess walked toward the fire, the heels of her boots clicking on the hardwood floor. When she ran her hand over the mantel checking for dust—almost without thought—Rowan shook her head. Some things would never change.
"One of the reasons I married Leo was because I hoped he would treat Geoff as the son he always wanted."
"I thought you married Leo for his money."
"I did." Unashamed, Tess didn't flinch from the truth. "But why not shoot for the stars? Don't get me wrong, I tried to give Leo a child. I even became pregnant after five years of trying."
"I had no idea."
"No one did. I wasn't very far along." Tess stared into the fire. "I might have told Leo. I might have kept trying. But one night, not long after your ninth birthday, he made a comment that changed everything."
Tess glided to the sofa, taking her seat. For the first time, she met Rowan's gaze full on.
"We were in bed. Leo had one of those endless reports he's always reading. Without looking up, he said, too bad Rowan isn't a boy. One sentence. But I knew what he meant."
"I was a tomboy."
"Geoff was a disappointment, while you had all the qualities Leo admires. Unfortunately, you didn't have the one thing that matters most."
"A penis." Rowan had heard the refrain before. But the part about Geoff was new.
"I hadn't thought about equal rights or women's liberation. What was the point? But when Leo dismissed you because you had the gall to be born a woman? Something in me finally stood and took notice. I promised myself I would never give him the son he craved."
"Your own little revolution."
"I suppose. As I said, your brother is weak. He needed me. You never did." Tess sighed, running the tip of her finger along the rim of her glass. "Perhaps you did, and because I was so preoccupied with Geoff—at some point—you stopped trying to make me notice."
"Mom." Rowan leaned forward. She wanted to sit on the sofa, to feel her mother's arms around her. But habit made her stay where she was. "I wish you'd told me sooner."
"I didn't know how to start."
Tess, hope in her eyes, patted the cushion. Rowan didn't hesitate.
"I love you, Mom."
"Oh, baby. I love you, too." Tess patted her back. "Did you really kick your brother in the balls?"
"I used my knee. But, yes. I did."
"Good."
Rowan laughed.
Keeping one arm around Rowan, Tess picked up her glass, downing the contents. "Eating humble pie is a thirsty business."
"Would you like some more?"
"I'm fine. You know Geoff will never change. Not because he can't."
"Because he doesn't want to," Rowan finished for her.
"As for Leo…"
"Is his nose broken?"
"Very." Tess didn't sound upset. "Dr. Brill had to reset the bone. The jury is out on whether Leo will need plastic surgery. The swelling has to go down before they'll know."
"Nick will be happy to know."
"Nick Sanders. Leo's biological son, according to your brother."
"According to everyone, including a DNA test."
Suddenly, Rowan needed the tea she had passed on earlier. Without asking, she decided to make a pot, removing two cups from the cupboard.
"Leo didn't say a lot. But your young man… He is your young man?"
"To be determined," Rowan said, adding a sugar bowl and a small pitcher of cream to a serving tray.
Tess raised her eyebrows, but let the topic drop.
"Leo was quite impressed. Mad as Hades, but impressed. Something tells me he hasn't given up his dream of bringing his son into the fold."
Something told Rowan that Leo needed his head examined.
"I knew Leo wasn't perfect. Not by a long stretch. But now…" Rowan searched for what to say. "He's not a good man."
"Not compared to some. Shall I pour?" Tess asked after Rowan set the tray on the coffee table.
"Mom—"
"I like my life, Rowan. At this point, Leo and I have very little to do with each other beyond entertaining his business associates." She handed Rowan a filled cup, adding a splash of cream and half a teaspoon of sugar to her own. "I'm content most of the time. Happy when I have my grandchildren around."
"I would want more than content."
"You're young. You should want more." Tess's eyes took on a faraway look. "Your father loved us."
"I remember."
"You do? I'm glad." She sipped her tea. "So many years have gone by. If I had never known him, I wouldn't believe a man like that existed outside of a fairytale."
"He made you laugh."
Tess smiled at the memory. "Your father was steadfast. Not the sexiest word. And a little old-fashioned. But believe me, if you ever find a man who will stand by you, no matter what. No questions asked. Who lights up when you walk in a room. And holds your hand—just because. Never let him go, Rowan. A man like that? He spoils you for anybody else."
Rowan rubbed her chest. The spot right above her heart.
"I think I already found him."
"Nick?"
"It's complicated."
Tess laughed. "Life is complicated. However, when you stop thinking and know Nick is the one? All those complications will cease to matter."
"When will I know?"
"You just will."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
● ≈ ● ≈ ●
ANOTHER SPRING TRAINING in the books. The start of another baseball season was less than forty-eight hours away.
After the flight to Seattle, the bus ride to team headquarters, and the scramble by his teammates to get home to their own beds after a month in Arizona, Nick should have wanted the same thing.
However, the idea of time alone with his increasingly dark thoughts seemed like a punishment, not a reward. Good thing he had friends who could be counted on to chase away the blues—at least for an hour or two.
"You guys want to grab a beer?" Nick asked, slinging his duffel over his shoulder.
"Sorry. Can't. Very important prior plans." Spencer grinned as he watched a bright red Mercedes come to a stop. As the door opened, a pair of long, shapely legs emerged. The woman attached was just as appealing, her eyes all for Spencer.
Blue O'Hara walked into her fiancé's open arms.
"Miss me?"
"Maybe. Just a little."
Nick groaned as he watched the couple kiss. He was happy for them. Honestly. But at the moment, he wasn't in the mood for public displays of affection.
"How about you?" Nick turned his back on Spencer and Blue. He could always rely on Travis to help him kill some time.
"Maybe tomorrow. I plan to sleep for the next twenty-four hours straight. Twenty-six, if I'm lucky."
Nick frowned. He'd been so caught up in his own personal drama, he hadn't noticed that Travis wasn't himself lately. Not frustrated and moody. Nick had the market cornered on those emotions. More pensive, his usual ready smile missing more often than not.
Like Nick's trip to Jasper, Travis' journey to his hometown hadn't ended well. They could form a club.
"Somethin
g you want to talk about?"
Travis shook his head. "I've had enough talking to last a lifetime. Either I say too much. Or not enough. Either way, I never seem to say the right thing. You know what I mean?"
"I have absolutely no idea." Nick had never seen Travis so subdued. This version of his friend made him nervous.
"If I leave you alone, you aren't going to do something stupid?"
"Jesus." Travis punched Nick in the arm. Hard. "I'm tired, not suicidal, asshole."
Wasn't that what a suicidal person would say? Nick wasn't taking any chances.
"I plan on calling you every hour or so. If you don't pick up, expect me to show up."
"I need sleep," Travis ground out.
"I don't care."
"He isn't going to kill himself," Spencer, having finally come up for air, watched as Travis slid behind the wheel of his car. "He's having woman problems."
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"Could be he sensed you were in a similar bind." Spencer swung a friendly arm around Nick's shoulders. "Misery may love company, but not when women are involved."
"Travis confided in you?"
"A little. But he was a fount of information compared to you. I know her name is Rowan, and that she's the one."
Hearing Rowan's name other than in his head made Nick tense. If he had the time, he would hop a plane for Jasper just to tell her to piss off. Then make love to her for the next week.
Since neither was possible, Nick had to settle for grinding his teeth.
"Right about now, you know as much as I do."
"Things might start looking up."
Ten minutes later, alone in the back of a taxi, Nick closed his eyes. He left Rowan in November, certain he could convince her what they had was worth the risk.
December was good. They were in contact almost every day. Texts. Emails. They even Skyped once a week. From three thousand miles away, Rowan's smile lit up his gray Seattle day.
The old year flowed into the new. Nick asked Rowan to fly with him to Paris. Or London. Rome? Anyplace. Her choice. But she claimed work kept her too busy. Nick wanted to believe her, so he didn't push.
With the rest of the Cyclones, Nick reported to Spring Training in February. By March, when the games began, he was certain they were making progress. Until last week when Rowan all but disappeared from his life.
Rolling his head in a circle, Nick felt his neck pop with tension. He needed a massage. And a good meal. A shower, and his own bed. But most of all, he needed Rowan.
Picking up his phone, he scrolled through her last few texts. Short was the best way to describe them. But not particularly sweet.
Busy. Talk later.
Sorry I missed your call. Mom has a bad cold. On chicken soup patrol.
Nick was glad Rowan and her mother had come to a better understanding of each other. But using her mother's illness as an excuse? The woman needed soup. How bad could it be?
He felt Rowan was giving him the runaround. Something had changed, and for some reason, she wasn't telling him why.
Then, as a big plop of crap on top of an already steaming pile, Nick heard from Leonard Cartwright. Not personally. Cartwright's lawyers contacted Nick's with an offer.
"Mr. Cartwright is offering to make you his heir. Everything would be yours. All you have to do is—"
Nick stopped his lawyer right there.
"No."
"But the offer is quite fair. If you—"
"No. Tell Cartwright's lawyer no deal. I'm not interested. Not now. Not ever."
"But—"
"No buts. Do what I want, or you're fired. Understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Sanders. But I think you're making a big mistake."
Cartwright could go to hell. In fact, Nick wished him there, then put the man out of his mind. Permanently.
However, Nick's lawyer was right. He'd made one big mistake. He thought his heart would be safe in Rowan's care. Now, he wasn't so sure.
Nick let himself into his house, dropping his bags at the front door.
The refrigerator was fully stocked, thanks to his housekeeper, but Nick wasn't interested. After staring at the wide selection of food for several minutes, he shut the door, grabbing a beer.
The house on Lake Washington was more of a stopping-off point than a home. Spencer lived within walking distance. Travis was in the process of building a place several lots over. They often drove to the ballpark together.
Nick had never thought too much about decorating. A comfortable chair sat in the living room. When he wanted to relax, he had a big deck and a view of the lake on one side. A big screen TV on the other.
Beer in hand, Nick opened the French doors, breathing in the crisp, yet surprisingly mild April air. Though the sky was cloudy, a few streaks of sunlight tried their best to break through the gloom. He strolled onto the deck, leaning against the rail.
Nick gazed at the water. Peaceful, he thought, watching the moored boats bobbing up and down. Raising his beer, before Nick could take a drink, he caught a streak of unexpected color out of the corner of his eye.
"What the…?"
The yard wrapped around the house. Not large, but Nick liked the bit of green it provided. A small hill sloped up to a tall row of shrubs, providing the yard with privacy from his neighbors.
Instead of the plain grass he expected, the hill was covered in flowers.
"A hill where spring flowers bloom. Just as your mother asked."
Rowan. Her blond hair swirled into its usual messy bun. Her eyes, so damn blue. And that smile. All for him. Nick didn't know if she were a figment of his imagination. He didn't care.
In two strides, Nick had Rowan in his arms. He kissed her, all his pent-up need and frustration spilling over. The best part? She kissed him back.
"You feel real."
"I am." Beaming, Rowan touched his face. "I'm here. For good, if you want me."
"For good? But how? I— You know what? Explain later." Nick lifted Rowan over his shoulder, making a beeline for the house.
"I can walk," Rowan laughed, grabbing his hips for balance.
"I'm faster."
Slamming the door shut, Nick took the stairs two at a time, cursing the architect who thought putting the bedrooms on the second floor was a good idea.
"Clothes. Off," Nick said the second he set Rowan down.
He took care of his clothing, throwing back the covers. Rowan still had on her bra when he tossed her onto the bed. The sex was wild, out of control. And fast.
"I've missed you," Nick said in the way of an explanation.
"I could tell." Rowan snuggled close. "You won't hear me complain."
"I didn't cheat."
"I know."
After all Rowan's worries, suddenly he had her absolute trust?
"Why?" Nick had to ask.
"You're steadfast."
"Sounds boring."
"Never. I know you'll stand by me, no matter what. No questions asked. Your face lights up when I walk in a room. And you hold my hand." Rowan linked her fingers with his. "Just because."
"You forgot something."
"Did I?" Rowan took a deep breath, her eyes locked with his. "Tell me."
"I love you, Rowan. My heart is yours. My body. My soul. Forever."
"I love you, Nick. Though I didn't know at the time, my heart has been yours from the moment we met. My body. My soul. Forever."
For the first time in forever, Nick felt tears clog his throat. He couldn't cry. Not yet. But something told him, with Rowan—their wedding, the birth of their children—the tears would come.
"Thank you for planting my mother's flowers."
"You think she would approve?"
"I know she does."
Content in a way he never guessed possible, Nick held Rowan close, her love—their love—filling the room.
EPILOGUE
● ≈ ● ≈ ●
THE CROWD RO
ARED. Somehow, they grew louder with every pitch. Rowan wondered how such a thing was possible. Then again, she was new to baseball.
Opening day, Nick had explained on the way to the game, was always filled with a certain amount of pomp and circumstance. But this year, everything was bigger. Better. More intense.
"We're world champs. There's a banner to raise. Rings to hand out. The fans have waited a long time for their team to win the World Series. You can expect a lot of celebrating."
Forget the crowd, Rowan thought. Nick was wound up like a little kid on Christmas morning. She might not understand the intricacies of baseball, but she knew winning the championship was huge. Rowan was thrilled she was here to share the moment with him.
Rowan's decision to leave Jasper hadn't been made lightly. But once she let go of her fear and doubt, she knew she had no other choice. Not if she wanted to be happy. Not if she wanted Nick. And she did. More than anything.
As she told him over scrambled eggs and toast—when he finally let her out of bed—Rowan hadn't meant to cut Nick off.
The actual move had been easier than she expected. But time consuming. She spent every waking second making preparations. Between a massive case of nerves and all the last-minute details, she barely had time to sleep. The weeks flew by, then the last one dragged interminably.
"I wanted to surprise you. Not drive you crazy."
"Yet you managed both," Nick said, too relaxed and happy to do more than gently pinch her on the butt.
RTC Landscaping was about to become a bicoastal operation. Once Rowan made up her mind to jump, she used both feet. Rebecca would run the end in Jasper. Setting up in Seattle would take time.
"I hope you don't mind. I may have to mooch off you for a while."
"I think I can support both of us," Nick teased. "For the time being."
Rowan adjusted her new Cyclones' baseball cap. Nick was in the…
"What do you call the place Nick's standing?"
"The on-deck circle," Blue O'Hara shouted. "Don't worry. You'll pick up the lingo fast."
Rowan's self-appointed guide—and, besides Nick, her first friend in Seattle—Blue had secured their seats just off the first base side. Hot properties for any game, on opening night, getting tickets was next to impossible. Unless you worked as head of public relations for the team.
For Another Day (One Strike Away Book 2) Page 17
