by Naomi Horton
Gasping for breath, she'd eased herself off him and hurriedly pulled on her panties, then slipped out of the truck and into the house and up to her room, weak-kneed and still dizzy with the scent and taste of him.
Only later did she discover the imprint of his belt buckle embossed on her inner thigh, and she'd gone to bed that night smiling with the thought of carrying his mark on her, like a brand. Jett Kendrick's woman, she'd thought as she'd slipped toward sleep, unaware then that she was already three weeks pregnant with his child. I'm Jett Kendrick's woman…
Kathleen shook off the memory impatiently and looked up at the house. Time she got rid of those memories, too.
It had stopped raining, but water was still pattering off the maples, and she turned her collar up as she slid out of the car and walked around to the huge double front door.
Muddy handprints clustered around each brass knob, and the top step was littered with plastic toys. A tricycle lay on its side in the nearest flower bed, and Kathleen had to grin. If anyone needed proof that Judge Nelson Patterson was dead, they didn't have to look farther than right here.
Still grinning, she reached out and gave the huge brass lion's head knocker a couple of solid raps. She could hear kids shouting somewhere far inside, assorted crashes and thumps, then rapid footsteps clattering on marble.
The door swung in, and Sherry glared out at her, looking frazzled and out of sorts, jeans rolled up to mid-calf, feet bare, sloppy sweatshirt smeared with jam and heaven knew what else.
She blinked, then broke into a huge smile. "Kathleen! I thought you were the plumber—he said he'd be here three hours ago!" She stepped forward to give Kathleen a hug, then stopped, gesturing at her sweatshirt. "Better not, unless you want to get marinaded with peanut butter."
"I can think of worse things." Laughing, Kathleen gave her sister-in-law a quick—if cautious—hug. "Plumber?"
Sherry rolled her eyes. "Shaun tried to flush his teddy bear down the upstairs john. I just got the last of the water mopped up, but teddy's still jammed down there somewhere."
Kathleen couldn't keep from laughing, Jett's hostility and her own strange moodiness suddenly gone. She gave Sherry another reckless hug, peanut butter be damned. "Gosh, it's good to see you! It's always so … so normal around you."
Sherry gave a peal of merry laughter and made a wide gesture that took in the entire house. "Honey, if this strikes you as normal, you obviously need a strong shot of whiskey!" She slipped her arm through Kathleen's and pulled her inside, shoving the door closed with her foot.
"Trust me, this is the closest thing to normal that this house has ever seen." Kathleen looked around her as they walked past the huge double sweep of the split staircase. "Maybe if Gordo and I had stuffed a few teddy bears down the john when we were kids, things would have been … different."
Sherry gave a snort. "It would have taken a lot more than some bunged-up plumbing to have made this place normal when you two were—" She snapped her mouth shut, cheeks coloring. "Sorry. That was way out of line."
"It's true," Kathleen replied quietly. "And it's refreshing to hear someone say what they think, for a change." She gave Sherry a quick grin. "When Gord and I were growing up, denial was the rule of the day. Everyone knew our mother was a discreet but dedicated drunk and our father was a cold, unemotional man who loved power and money and little else, but no one ever said it."
Sherry looked so shocked that Kathleen had to laugh out loud. "Hey, it's okay! He can't hear us." Grin widening, she pulled Sherry to a stop in the center of the foyer and tipped her head back. The cupola that had been her mother's pride and joy arched thirty feet above them, windows aglow with watery late afternoon light.
"Did you hear that, Dad?" she shouted with sudden, heady recklessness. Echoes rattled back, and she laughed, feeling giddy with daring. She'd never shouted in this house. Had never slid down these wide, polished banisters. Had never left dirty handprints on the doors or crumbs on the carpets or toys on the floor. "I'm not afraid of you anymore!" She gave a whoop of defiance and laughter, astonished at how wonderful a childish outburst could feel, how exhilarating the sense of freedom.
"Me, neither!" Sherry's voice rose to join the echoes, laced with laughter. "I spilled a soft drink on the carpet and Chelsea threw a baseball through a bedroom window, and we have a puppy!"
"A puppy?" Kathleen looked at her. "You guys have a puppy?"
Sherry grimaced. "Yeah, and it peed on the rug in the dining room. I just hope the cleaners can get it out."
Kathleen felt a grin start to take hold. She met Sherry's gaze, and after a moment Sherry's mouth twitched, as though she were holding back laughter.
Giggling, she slipped her arm through Kathleen's, and they both looked up. And, in unison, shouted at the top of their lungs, "The puppy peed on the carpet!"
They collapsed against each other, helpless with laughter, when a slight noise behind them made them both whirl around, Kathleen's heart nearly stopping on the spot.
It wouldn't have surprised her if her father had been standing there, that familiar look of thunder on his face. But it was just Gordon and the two kids, mouths agape in astonishment.
Kathleen gave a sputter of laughter and walked across to him. "Relax, Gordo! We were just exorcising a few ghosts."
Gordon blinked, then grinned and embraced her awkwardly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Every now and again I find myself doing something crazy just for the hell of it. Just because I can." He stepped back and let his arms fall to his sides again, as though not too certain what to do with them.
Another inheritance from their father, Kathleen thought sadly. Hugging had never been big in the Patterson household.
"Hi, Aunt Kathleen!" Chelsea grinned up at her, revealing a gap where her front teeth used to be. "'Member me?"
"Well, I don't know. Let me think…" Kathleen squatted so she was eye level with her niece and pretended to give it serious thought. "Short person with no teeth and a dirty face … hmm. Could it be? Is it? My gosh, it's Chelsea Anne Patterson!"
Chelsea gave a squeal of laughter and launched herself at Kathleen. No inhibitions there. Kathleen returned the hug, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo and peanut butter. "It's good to see you again, sweetie."
"Guess what! I got two whole dollars from the tooth fairy and Daddy says I can have a pony for my birthday and Shaun flushed his teddy down the pot and it flooded all over! And, and—you know what?" She was practically incandescent with excitement, eyes shining like stars. "We got a puppy!"
"An' it peed on the carpet," came a whisper from somewhere behind Gordon's legs. A head peeked cautiously around, and serious blue eyes met Kathleen's from under a tangle of flaxen hair.
"Well, hi, Shaun. Do you remember me?"
He nodded shyly. "Uh-huh."
"You're practically all grown up!"
He giggled.
"Can I have a hug?"
He stepped around Gordon's legs and into her arms with no hesitation, planting a noisy damp kiss on her cheek.
"Wow." Kathleen gazed at him, then at Chelsea, who was leaning against her, one small arm draped around her neck. Something tugged at her heart just a little, and she swallowed. "You two are really something else, you know that?"
She gave both children one last ferocious hug, then stood, inadvertently intercepting a look of sympathy—pity?—passing between Gord and Sherry. Pretending not to notice, she smiled brightly and tried not to think what they were obviously thinking. Tried not to think of her own baby, dead before she'd even held him.
Might as well try not to think of elephants in a room filled with them.
Shaun's small hand slid into hers, and she smiled down at him, throat tightening. Then she slipped her arm through Gordon's and hugged it. "So, big brother, what's it like? Setting up shop in town, living out here at The Oaks—with a puppy, no less! Facing the good folk of Burnt River every day."
"Easier than I'd anticipated in some ways, harder in others. Half those
good folk routinely remind me that I'm not the man my father was, and the other half are afraid I might be."
"But you're happy you came out here? You don't ever think of moving back to Sacramento?"
"No way." He shook his head firmly.
"The weather's the pits," Sherry put in with a laugh. "The first time it snowed, I was ready to go back to California, but Gord and the kids thought they'd gone to heaven. Gord stayed home, and we all went tobogganing up by Deer Jump Creek. I've never been so cold—or had so much fun—in my life!"
"Stayed home?" Kathleen feigned astonishment. "Gordon Patterson, the quintessential workaholic, stayed home to take his family tobogganing?" She looked at him suspiciously. "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"
"I keep working on him," Sherry said dryly. "Yesterday he came home early to help Chelsea build a doghouse."
"Good grief!" Kathleen gave her a look of horror. "And the roof didn't cave in?"
"It trembled a little, but it held." Sherry gave her husband a nudge in the ribs and grinned up at him. "Another year or two with me and he'll be going around unshaven on weekends and belching at the table."
Gordon winced. "Now there's something to look forward to."
Sherry laughed good-naturedly and patted Gordon's shoulder. "How about grabbing Kathy's bags out of the car and putting them in—" Sherry looked at Kathleen. "I was going to put you in your old room, but maybe you'd prefer one of the others?"
Kathleen hesitated, then shook her head. "My old room is fine, Sherry. There are no boogeymen in this house, just a few bad memories. And it's time I exorcized them, too."
"Mommy exorcizes every morning," Chelsea piped up. "She's got a exorcize bike in the bedroom, and she gets on and says bad words and everything."
"I'm trying to exorcize away about ten pounds," Sherry said with a laugh.
"You wanna come and play with the puppy?"
"Your aunt's going to be staying for a good long while, so there's no need to wear her out in the first five minutes. Shaun, it's long past your nap time."
"Ahhh." Shaun shuffled and frowned, small face pursing. "Do I hafta? I'm too old for a nap."
"You're never too old for a nap. Upstairs, kiddo."
"But I wanna show Aunt Kathleen the puppy!"
"The puppy's asleep," Gordon said gently, bending to scoop up his son. Two small arms went around his neck instantly, and Gordon smiled like a kid himself as his son nestled against his shoulder. "You, too, Chelsea. I'll read you both a story."
Chelsea broke into a radiant smile and skipped along beside her father, sparing Kathleen a wide grin before reaching up to hold her father's hand.
Smiling, Kathleen watched her brother walk slowly up the stairs, then followed Sherry toward the kitchen. "You really have done wonders for that guy. He used to be so uptight he squeaked. He looks happier than I've ever seen him."
"Well, I think moving back here helped a lot. There were things he'd never dealt with, things about your mom and dad he'd never faced. It's as though he had to come back here to make peace with that part of himself."
"Yeah, I know what you mean."
Sherry flashed her a sympathetic smile and reached out to squeeze her arm. "I'm really sorry you and Brice broke up."
"Don't be. Brice was a mistake. I'm just glad I figured that out before I married him."
"You had Gord and me worried, if you want the truth. When we met him at your dad's funeral, I got the impression he was more interested in marrying you for the connections the Patterson name would give him than any undying passion."
"Undying passion? Brice?" Kathleen gave a snort.
"Well, you can always move back here and find yourself a good-lookin' cowboy." She grinned at Kathleen over her shoulder. "I'm sure there's an old boyfriend or two around who'd love to catch up on old times."
The image of Jett's darkly handsome face flickered across Kathleen's memory, and she shook it off. "No, I don't think so. There's been a little too much water under that bridge."
"Supper's not going to be for hours, thanks to the teddy bear crisis. How about a chicken sandwich and a slab of cherry pie to tide you over? Oh, and that coffee's fresh—help yourself."
Gratefully, Kathleen walked across to the coffee maker and picked up one of the mugs sitting on the counter. "Sounds wonderful, but don't go to any trouble."
"No trouble. Of course, there's always Jett Kendrick."
Kathleen spilled hot coffee and swore under her breath, looking around for a cloth to wipe the counter. "Jett Kendrick?"
"From what Gordie says, you two had quite a thing going." Sherry stepped past her with a sly smile and wiped up the mess expertly. "What a hunk! I see him around town now and again, and I'll tell you—if I weren't happily married to that brother of yours, I'd be tempted to take a run at him myself." She glanced at Kathleen. "You do know that he's single again? His wife died about six years ago—some sort of car accident."
Kathleen added cream to her coffee and studiously avoided looking at her sister-in-law. "Mmm," she finally said, opting for noncommittal. "This is really good coffee. Do you grind the beans yourself?"
"Picked and roasted 'em just before you got here," Sherry said dryly. "If you don't want to talk about Jett Kendrick, we won't."
"It's not that I don't want to talk about him, it's just that I can't imagine why we … why I … why … oh, hell!" Kathleen gave up finally, laughing. "Yes, Jett and I did date for a few months, but it's ancient history. I doubt he even remembers me." Thinking, as she said it, of the sultry anger in Jett's eyes when he'd faced her down barely an hour ago.
"So you don't want me to invite him for supper?"
Kathleen nearly spilled her coffee again. "Don't even joke about it."
"I guess the history's not as ancient as you'd like me to think." There was a hint of amusement in Sherry's voice.
"No." Kathleen's voice was slightly rough. "That's not it. It's…" She frowned. "Gord told you that my dad sent me to Baltimore to live with my aunt and uncle when I was fifteen, and I guess he told you why."
Sherry nodded, her eyes filled with sympathy.
"But I guess he didn't tell you that the baby's father was Jett Kendrick."
"Oh, Father Christmas!" Sherry's cheeks turned scarlet. "No, he didn't, or I'd never have—oh, I can't believe I—"
"Forget it," Kathleen said with a laugh. "That is ancient history. But I think you can see why inviting Jett to dinner might not be a good idea."
"Consider it forgotten!" Sherry managed a quiet laugh. "But I have to tell you, if Jett was even half as cute and sexy then as he is today, I can sure see why you wound up … compromised."
"Oh, honey!" In spite of herself—in spite of the memories—Kathleen couldn't hold back a whoop of laughter. "You have no idea! He had this raven-black hair that hung halfway to his waist, and he'd wear this beaded choker and a beaded denim vest with nothing under it but muscles, and tight jeans and … oh, man!" She fanned herself with her fingers. "He looked like he'd just stepped off the cover of a romance novel. One look at him, and I was ready to be compromised on the spot."
Sherry gave a sputter of delighted laughter. "You were all of fifteen. Your dad must have had a fit!"
"That was half the attraction. At first, anyway." Kathleen smiled reminiscently. "But after that first date…" Her smile turned wistful. "I know people don't think a fifteen-year-old girl knows what love is, that it's all just hormones and infatuation. But I really did love the guy, Sherry."
"No hormones?" Sherry raised one eyebrow skeptically.
"Plenty of hormones! But there was more. I've never—" She shook her head. "I know it sounds crazy, but I've never felt that way about anyone since. Maybe that's why I'm still single. Maybe I'm still looking for the same kind of magic that I had for those four months when I was fifteen. Pretty silly, huh?"
Sherry didn't say anything. She looked at Kathleen thoughtfully, then walked across and poured herself a cup of coffee, taking her time a
dding cream and sugar. "I think it's time you moved back here to Burnt River," she finally said. "I think it's time you put Baltimore and the baby and your father and everything that happened sixteen years ago behind you, and got on with the rest of your life."
The plumber arrived just as Sherry was pulling cold roast chicken out of the fridge. Kathleen sent her upstairs to help rescue Shaun's teddy bear and set about making her own lunch, musing that she felt more at home here now than when she'd actually lived here.
And a couple of hours later, after the plumber had left and the bear had been hung up to dry and Sherry had disappeared to shower and change, Kathleen ran lightly up the winding staircase leading to the second floor. Here, the past was stronger, each step upward like a step back through time, the house enveloping her with sudden, unexpected memories. Her mother walking down these same stairs, wreathed in expensive perfume and silk. Her father striding down them, tailored and perfect and remote, never relaxed, always impatient.
She could remember sitting on these same stairs as a child, hoping that sooner or later one of them would notice her. And they always did, although more often than not it was only to tell her to go outside and play, and for heaven's sake, didn't she have anything better to do than get in the way?
Thinking about it made Kathleen smile humorlessly as she turned at the top of the stairs to walk down the long corridor to her father's study. She'd grown up here, had lived here, but this big, coldly elegant house had never truly been a home. It had been a showcase, a place where wealthy people gathered to talk business and investments, where powerful men drank coffee and plotted political futures.
A place with no room at all for a pregnant fifteen-year-old.
She gave the door a couple of raps with her knuckles and pushed it open. Gord was sitting behind her father's massive walnut desk, frowning over a scattering of papers. He looked up when she poked her head in, then leaned back in the leather chair, grinning, when he saw it was her. "Hey. Come on in."
"Kids asleep?"
