by Marta Perry
Julie hung her towel over the edge of the dish rack. “It was a pleasure. I’m sure they’d have helped clean up if they could.”
Siobhan chuckled. “You don’t have to make excuses for my brood. Those boys are experts when it comes to getting out of kitchen cleanup. And to tell the truth, I’m just as glad Mary Kate took her two home. The excitement level was getting a bit high.”
The house had emptied out pretty quickly after the birthday cake and ice cream had been consumed, and Seth had taken a whining Davy upstairs for a bath.
“Davy didn’t want it to end.”
“No.” Siobhan smiled. “But if the splashing I heard is any indication, Seth managed to divert him.”
She imagined a smiling Seth, leaning over the bathtub, being thoroughly doused by his little son. She pictured him turning, sending that smile toward her…
No, that part was her overactive imagination. She tried to turn her mind into its usual sensible, practical channels, but it didn’t want to go. Instead she seemed to be drifting, oddly suspended between who she thought she was and who she might be.
She wasn’t sure what that moment with Seth meant. She hadn’t imagined that. In another instant, they’d have been kissing.
She should have made an excuse, like the rest of the family, and gotten out of here the moment the last bite of cake was eaten. Something close to panic swept through her. She was flirting with disaster, letting herself get so close to any of the Flanagans, but especially to Seth.
But she didn’t want to go. That was the bottom line. It was so satisfying to be here, to wash dishes with Siobhan, to do the ordinary things she might have done with her mother if she’d had an ordinary life.
To feel wanted. That was what she felt from Siobhan. Wanted. Welcomed. As if she’d come home.
They wouldn’t feel that way if they knew who you were, her conscience reminded her.
“Hey, ladies. Look who has come to say goodnight.”
She turned. Seth stood just inside the swinging door to the dining room, holding Davy in his arms. Davy, in a pair of stretchy pajamas, his hair wet and cheeks rosy, looked too angelic to be the same little boy who’d been charging through the house after his cousins.
“Which of you had the bath?” Siobhan inquired, crossing the kitchen to kiss Davy’s cheek.
“I did, Grammy,” Davy crowed, laughing at the joke.
Seth’s blue shirt had several damp patches, and his hair was almost as wet as Davy’s. His smiling gaze met Julie’s, inviting her to join his amusement.
Her breath quickened. She really was in trouble if a simple smile could affect her so much.
“Say night-night to Julie,” Seth said. “And thank you for the train.”
“Thank you for the train,” Davy repeated.
She went to him, wondering if she could kiss him good-night. Davy answered that question by lunging into her arms. She caught him by instinct, inhaling the clean scent of soap and little boy.
He nuzzled against her cheek, making her heart thump. “Want Julie to read my story.”
“Davy—” Seth began.
“Julie won’t mind doing that.” Siobhan smiled at her. “Will you, Julie?”
“No, of course not.” Mind taking an opportunity that might never come again? “I’d love to.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” Seth reached for Davy, his hands tangling with hers. “Come on, little man. I’ll give you a horsey ride upstairs.”
Siobhan switched off the overhead light. “I’m going to take a book to bed and read until your father gets home. Julie, we loved having you here.” She put her arms around her in a quick, warm hug that surprised Julie. “Good night. See you again soon.”
Julie fought a battle with her conscience as she mounted the stairs behind Seth and Davy. Siobhan’s words had been genuine. But she didn’t know who Julie was.
The best thing she could do, for herself and the Flanagans, was to get out of Suffolk as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, her mind and heart were pulling in different directions.
Davy’s room was small, with sloping walls and a window seat in an alcove. Every bit of the space had been utilized to turn it into a perfect little boy’s room, with shelves for books and toys, a bright blue dresser, even a low rack in the closet just high enough for a three-year-old to reach.
Seth tumbled Davy onto a child-size sleigh bed covered with a quilt in a train motif. Davy giggled, rolling over as Seth pulled the quilt over him. Then he sat up and patted the bed next to him.
“Sit here,” he commanded. “Read.” He picked up a book from the bedside table and thrust it into Julie’s hands. “Train book.”
“You can see that you brought the right present.” Seth settled at the foot of the bed, leaning on one elbow. “This passion for trains is new. We’ll have to go to Strasburg and take a ride on the steam railway.”
Davy bounced on the bed. “Ride the train, Daddy. Ride the train.”
“Someday soon,” Seth said. “Right now Julie’s going to read your book, remember?”
“Right.” Davy snuggled against her and pulled the book open. “Read.”
Seth couldn’t know how much it affected her to have Davy snuggled against her so trustingly, hanging on every word of the story. Trust. It was hard to keep her voice steady as she read the adventures of the little blue engine.
The Flanagans all seemed blessed with the ability to trust. At least, she thought it was a blessing. Certainly it was one she’d never experienced. She’d learned through experience she could trust God, but as far as trusting anyone else—
She stumbled over a word, took a breath and collected herself. Seth was wrong to trust her. She was deceiving him. No matter how real this moment felt—reading a bedtime story to Davy, feeling Seth’s eyes resting on her warmly—she couldn’t forget that it was all a deception.
He and Julie had reached the bottom of the stairs, after being called back by Davy three times for a drink, an addition to his bedtime prayer and another hug and kiss. At any moment, Julie would say she had to leave. He didn’t want her to go.
“I should go.” Julie’s voice was soft, hesitant, and her eyes evaded his. She gestured toward the door, and he caught her hand.
“You don’t have to leave yet. Not when the house has finally settled down. You don’t know how rare this peaceful time is around here. We have to enjoy it.”
She smiled, shaking her head a little, but she let him lead her to the couch in front of the fireplace.
“It’s obvious that you and Davy have found the right place, living here.”
The fire Dad had started earlier had burned down, the logs falling apart into embers. He put another piece of split wood on, watched the flames flicker around it and sat down next to her.
“True enough.” He linked his hands around his knee, his gaze on the fire, but very aware of the woman next to him. “Lisa died when I was still getting used to being a father. I knew I couldn’t cope with an infant on my own.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice went soft with sympathy. “That must have been very difficult.”
He shrugged, uncomfortable as always with getting too close to open emotion. “We got through it.” He leaned back, focusing on her. “Then, I guess I couldn’t have imagined a day like today, celebrating Davy’s third birthday already.”
“Thank you for letting me share it.” She sounded as if she really meant that. As if being part of a child’s birthday party had been a joy to her.
“Hey, it wouldn’t have been the same without you. All those pictures you took—we might actually finally get one of him blowing out the candles.”
She smiled. “I think I can guarantee that. I’ll go through the shots and print the best ones for you in the next day or two.”
“And thanks again for the train. It was the perfect gift. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
She moved a little, as if the praise made her uneasy. “It was nothing. I mean, I wanted to thank all of y
ou for making my job here so easy.”
“You can’t fool me. There’s more to it than that.”
She looked startled, almost frightened. “What do you mean?”
He couldn’t resist taking her hand between his. “I know you’ve fallen in love with my son. It’s written all over you when you look at him.”
“He’s too lovable.” She seemed to make an effort to keep her tone light. “How could anyone resist him?”
Lovable. That word applied to Julie, too.
For a moment he was shocked at himself. To say that, even to himself, implied that he had feelings for her.
He looked at her, ready to say something light, something that would keep some space between them. And got lost in the depths of her deep green eyes.
“Julie.” He murmured her name, forgetting everything but that she was there, close to him, looking at him as if she longed to be in his arms.
He touched her cheek, and her skin was warm and smooth against his fingertips. He tipped her chin up, impelled by an emotion he didn’t want to identify, and found her lips with his.
He was swept by a longing and tenderness he couldn’t remember ever experiencing. He drew her closer, his arms moving around her, wanting to shelter her against him. Wanting to protect her from that loneliness he sometimes saw in the depths of her eyes.
Her lips moved against his, and he thought they formed his name. He took a breath, trying to regain his senses, then pressed his cheek against hers. Her silky hair caressed his skin, and his nostrils filled with the sweet, fresh scent of her. He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted—
Whoa, slow down. He drew back a little, scanning her face. She looked—dazed, he supposed. As if she’d just awakened and not yet shaken off a dream.
“Julie.” He said her name again, liking the sound of it on his lips. “You are so beautiful.”
He stopped. Luckily she didn’t seem to notice.
“No, I’m not.” She smiled, putting her palm against his cheek. “But it’s very nice of you to say so.”
“Beautiful,” he said again, dropping a kiss on her hand. “And lovable.”
Lovable, there was that word again. He wasn’t ready to think about love.
He was attracted to her, deeply attracted. More than that, he admired her—her talent, her courage in tackling whatever was thrown at her. Even that persistence of hers that had initially annoyed him.
But love—
She drew back a little, as if determined to regain some control. “I think you might just be affected by how long it’s been since you’ve dated.”
He shook his head. “You’re not going to remind me of my disastrous attempt to start dating, are you?”
“I wouldn’t do that.” The smile she tried for trembled a little on her lips. “But we shouldn’t—well, read too much into this. Your wife—”
“I loved Lisa.” He said the words slowly. Gravely. Feeling as if he hovered on the brink of telling Julie something he hadn’t told anyone else.
She looked at him gravely.
“There’s something more, isn’t there? Some other reason why you waited so long to look for another relationship.”
She was frighteningly intuitive. And he wanted to be honest with her. He owed her honesty, because he could see the vulnerability she tried to hide behind her camera. He could see it in the way she reacted to his family, as if she’d never known a family’s love.
He leaned back, wrapping his fingers around hers. If he explained about Lisa, maybe she could understand both his longing and his caution.
“I loved Lisa,” he said again. “I realized pretty quickly when we started dating that she’d had a difficult childhood with parents who didn’t care about her.”
“Abusive parents?” Her voice was strained.
“Not physically, but emotionally. I guess that can hurt a child just as badly.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I think it can.”
“She was so eager to start a new life. She wanted to leave the old one completely behind, so I didn’t press her for details.”
He stopped. Had that been wrong, not to push to understand her more?
“She wanted to forget.”
He nodded. “I thought I could make her happy, but she never seemed able to be sure she was loved.”
“Maybe she couldn’t really leave the past behind.” Julie’s lips trembled on the words, as if she felt that pain.
“I guess not. I thought she should see a doctor about all those emotional ups and downs, but she didn’t want to, and I didn’t push.”
Guilty, a voice said inside his head. You’re guilty of not taking care of her.
“How did she feel about being pregnant?”
That he could answer gladly. “She loved it. Every single moment of it, even the morning sickness. I’d never seen her so happy.”
He smiled at the memory, but the smile couldn’t last. Not when he had to go on to what happened afterward.
He gripped Julie’s hand like a lifeline. “Afterward she just seemed to fall into depression. She didn’t even want to take care of the baby. My mother had to help. One day she asked Mom to come and stay with the baby. Said she felt better, wanted to go shopping.”
Julie put her other hand over his, as if she knew what was coming and wanted to protect him.
“She crashed into a semi on the highway. An accident, they said. But I’ve always wondered. Maybe it wasn’t an accident. Maybe she meant to do it.”
Seth’s words drove into Julie’s heart like a knife. Lisa, beautiful, sensitive Lisa—could she have been so depressed she wanted to end her life?
I can’t believe it about her, Lord. But I can’t dismiss it, either.
She forced herself to focus. Seth had opened up to her, and she was sure he didn’t do that often. She had to respond carefully.
“You can’t know that.” She gripped his fingers, longing to take his pain away but knowing she couldn’t. “It’s only natural to blame ourselves when someone we love dies so unexpectedly.”
Her throat tightened so much that the last few words sounded choked. She was blaming herself, wasn’t she?
Seth clasped her hand in both of his. “You’ve known that, too.”
“Yes.” She couldn’t tell him that she felt just as guilty for Lisa’s death. “I’ve lost someone I loved, and I blame myself. For what I did. For what I didn’t do.”
“Then you understand. If I’d forced Lisa to see a doctor about her depression, it might never have happened.”
“You don’t know that it would have made a difference. If what you fear is true, she might still have done it.”
Lisa. Oh, Lisa.
She could read the rejection on his face. “I should have pushed her to see someone.”
“You couldn’t force her.” She clutched his hand. “Listen to yourself, Seth. You couldn’t force her to do something she didn’t want to do.”
“I know that I didn’t try hard enough. I didn’t force the issue.” He shook his head, making a grimace that might have been intended for a smile. “That’s me. I always like to keep the peace.”
And that probably went a long way toward explaining his reluctance to take on a promotion. He might be forced to make waves if he did.
“I thought it was baby blues, and she’d get better. I thought she’d get better for Davy’s sake.”
“Anyone would think that.” She had to move carefully. “You said that you didn’t know much about her family. It’s possible there was a family history of bipolar disorder or depression.”
He gave her a startled look. “I never thought of that. What makes you think of something like that?”
“I don’t know. I’m just trying to point out that there may have been more at work than what you did or didn’t do.”
She didn’t remember much of Lisa’s mother, any more than she did of her own. But that might explain the crying jags when she’d stayed in her room for days.
On the other
hand, that reaction might simply have been the result of living with her father. She was looking at it through the eyes of the child she’d been.
If she told Seth the truth, would it make things better for him, or worse? If he knew—
She took a breath, trying to analyze what would happen if she told him who she was.
He’d be angry. He might never forgive her. She would bear that, if it meant something positive for Seth and for Davy.
She glanced at Seth. He stared into the fire, but some of the harsh lines had eased out of his face. It was as if, having unburdened himself, he’d found some measure of solace.
If he knew who she was, who Lisa had been, the whole situation would be out of her hands. He could decide to contact her father.
She wouldn’t be able to stop him. Even if she warned him, he wouldn’t trust her. Why should he, after the way she’d deceived him?
He moved, putting his arm across her shoulders as if he longed for the closeness. “Thank you, Julie. I guess maybe I needed to tell all that to someone.”
Just someone. Not you.
“I’m sure it’s better to talk about it with someone else than go over and over it in your own mind at four in the morning.”
“Yes. That’s when it’s the worst.”
Fortunately he didn’t ask how she knew. She’d had plenty of experience in four-in-the-morning soul-searching.
She shouldn’t be relying on the strength of Seth’s arm behind her. In a way, Lisa had hurt him by not telling him everything about her past. And she was hurting him by not telling him the truth about herself.
But she could do more harm by telling him. It always came back to that. It always came back to what would happen if Ronald Alexander found out he had a grandson.
He’d interfere. She knew that, bone-deep. And he had the money and power to make Seth’s life a misery if he didn’t cooperate.
And Davy— Fear gripped her at the thought of that lively, happy child being forced to spend time in her father’s cold, loveless house.
