Stormy Passion

by Brenda Jernigan

  The loud ring of the phone made her jump.

  “Sleepy Hollow. May I help you?” Brenna answered in her most professional tone.

  “I believe you can,” Taylor responded. His voice as smooth as ever.”Brenna I--”

  Brenna removed the receiver from her ear and let it fall to the cradle with a loud clatter. So, he had called after two and a half weeks. He had some nerve. Did he think he could treat her just any way?

  Not anymore.

  Tears burned her eyes and she held her head, wondering if he'd call back. But the contraption remained silent. She'd spent weeks praying he'd call, wanting to talk to him so bad it hurt. Then when she had the chance--What did she do? Hang up, of course. Her shoulders shook with irony and sobs. She just couldn't win.

  Now she'd never know what he had been going to say.

  Taylor rubbed his ear. Well, that answered one question .... Brenna was definitely angry. He wondered if she knew about his mother? Evidently not, or she wouldn't have been so rude.

  Maybe he should call her back. He shook his head. No, better to let her cool off. The next time he spoke to Brenna Fox, it would be in person.

  He only had one more thing to do.

  His secretary knocked, but didn't wait for him to answer before she came into his office followed by Andy Hall, Clerk of Superior Court.

  “I'm sorry to see you under such circumstances.” Mr. Hall extended his hand. Taylor came to his feet, smiled, then returned Andy's firm handshake.

  “Thank you, Andy, but these things have to be done.” Taylor looked at his secretary who was waiting for his instructions. “Bring my mother's lockbox, so we can inventory the contents.”

  Taylor and Mr. Hall sat at a conference table as Taylor took the key and opened the gray metal box. He removed a handful of papers and stacked them in front of him. There were several deeds, some stocks and bonds, her savings book, a few of his baby pictures along with his birth certificate. Taylor called out each one so the clerk could make a note of it. Then on the very bottom he found another legal document encased in blue. He had no idea what it could possibly be other than another deed.

  He unfolded the crisp, thick paper and began to read. Slowly, the blood left his face, and his hands turned ice-cold. My God, what had his mother done? The black, bold letters printed on the yellow-gold paper told him everything. If only he had known. She'd bribed Brenna out of his life. But why? He stared at the pen in his hand while he thought about his mother. And then it dawned on him. She didn't think Brenna was good enough for him. How could his mother have interfered in his life like this?

  “Is something wrong, Taylor?”

  Taylor stared at Andy in astonishment. “Let me sign your court papers, so you can get back to city hall.” Taylor quickly scribbled his name, and Mr. Hall signed under his. “Thanks for coming,” Taylor stood as the clerk left his office.

  Sinking back in his chair, Taylor picked up the legal document again and read it for a second time. Still clutching the sides, he lowered the paper and stared at nothing in particular. Why hadn't Brenna just come to him? The agony and pain from the past surfaced, and he sadly shook his head. As he lifted the paper again, a folded letter slipped from between the last page and the blue covering.

  Taylor recognized his father's handwriting when he unfolded the note written to his mother.

  Vivian,

  You'll be reading this note after I'm dead and buried. I want you to know what I'm about to tell you is very hard for me, but I think you should know the truth.

  I've always loved you and Taylor, but sometimes we all make mistakes and unfortunately, my dear, I made a drastic one.

  I kept it from you all this time for fear of hurting you. A few years back, when you were out of town, I went to a local bar for a few drinks. However, I didn't have the sense enough to stop with a couple of Highballs. I struck up a conversation with Lucy Fox and one thing led to another--you can guess the rest.

  I wouldn't tell you anything about my indiscretion, but that one-night-stand led to Lucy's second pregnancy.

  Her husband never found out and I never had anything to do with her after that one time, but I did promise that if anything happened to Lucy, I'd make sure Lisa was taken care of.

  I'm sorry, sweetheart. I've always loved you, but sometimes when we screw up our lives we must pay for it. Please see that Lisa has a decent life and keep my secret. The child should never be made to suffer.

  Love, Mark

  My God, what a can of worms, Taylor thought. Here were two people he loved and thought he knew and each had a dark secret. In a way his mother had kept her promise, but he sensed a deep-seated hate, which his mother had taken out on Brenna. How ironic. Brenna had been the innocent one in this whole mess, yet she had paid dearly. He could well imagine the pain that shot through Brenna when she found out her mother had slept with his father. Or did she know? How the town gossips would have liked this juicy tidbit.

  Taylor leaned his head back on his chair. After a long while, he smiled. Maybe he should write a book about this and call it Deception. It was almost unbelievable. He'd thought he'd had a normal childhood. What a laugh. There definitely had been skeletons in his closet. He chuckled again. Now he had the answer he'd been looking for and some he wasn't looking for. Lisa was his half-sister. There had always been something between them. From the very first he'd treated Lisa like a sister. His sister. He liked that thought. No wonder they always got along so well.

  His eyes returned to the agreement. It was all so clear. Brenna could not contact him in any way without forfeiting the money, and he was sure his mother had threatened Brenna with more scandal if she talked. He shut his eyes picturing his proud fiancée being browbeaten by his mother.

  Now he understood.

  The only question remaining was ... did Brenna still love him? Was it too late, or could they put everything behind them?

  That was something he was getting ready to find out as soon as he packed his bags.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Early morning sunlight burst through the open drapes straight onto Brenna's puffy eyelids. She squinted, wishing she'd pulled the drapes closed the night before. It had been another night of crying over Taylor. Why couldn't she accept the fact that she had loved and lost--twice?

  No, not her. She couldn't have learned her lesson the first time, she had to try it again--and worse--with the same person.

  She rubbed her eyes gently, wincing at the pain. Surely she had drained all the water from her body and couldn't possibly cry anymore, nor did she want to. Any little thing set her off. And Geraldine's pitying looks were killing Brenna. She knew she was pathetic. But she was trying. Even Lisa had begun an all out effort to cheer her up.

  Throwing back the covers, Brenna slid from bed and hobbled to the bathroom. The cold wooden floor beneath her feet reminded her how her heart felt . . . cold and empty. It was time to get on with her life and forget about what she couldn't have. She was going to date someone this weekend even if it were Joe the mechanic.

  “But, why had Taylor called?” Her scratchy voice sounded loud in the uninhabited room. She shook her head, disgusted with herself for even caring why he'd phoned. She would have had the answer to that question if she hadn't lost her temper and hung up on him. But then again, maybe it was for the best. If only she could forget.

  She sat on the commode in her bathroom, wrapping her cast in plastic and securing it with rubber bands. Then she reached over and turned on the shower. Taylor had probably called to apologize and say he'd made a mistake by staying at Sleepy Hollow in the first place. Her eyes narrowed as she let her robe fall to the floor. “Damn man!” Stepping into the shower, she closed the door and warned herself, “Quit thinking of him!”

  The steam quickly seeped into her nose. Gosh, the hot water felt good beating over her head and hopefully pounding her unwanted thoughts from her brain. She picked up a pink washcloth and ran the soap vigorously back and forth venting her frustration.


  She didn't want to hear Taylor's apologies or that he had decided to play it safe and marry Carol. Brenna knew she lacked the social graces to run in Taylor's circle of friends, but--but somehow she thought they had had something more--especially this last time. From the minute she'd first seen him, she'd been dazzled by his rugged good-looks. Now she saw his flaws, and she didn't like it.

  Tears swelled up in her eyes. “No,” she said, as she turned off the water. “I won't cry anymore!”

  “And I won't think of him. It's over!”

  By the time she had dressed, Brenna began to have a better outlook on things. After all, today she would become a normal human being again with two good feet. She couldn't wait to get this cast off.

  “You outdid yourself on these blueberry pancakes,” Brenna said as she took the last bite, mopping up the remaining maple syrup.

  “It's a special day.” Geraldine turned around and finished drying the bowl in her hand.

  “That's right. This afternoon I won't have to hobble anymore.”

  Geraldine's brow raised a fraction before she reached for another dish. “You've forgotten.”

  Brenna stared at her friend not understanding what she meant. “Of course not--how could I--you're going to take me to the doctors this morning. Aren't you?”

  “Lands sake, child.” Geraldine rolled her eyes. “I can't believe ya've done and forgot.”

  “Forgot what?”

  “Your birthday.”

  “My birthday,” Brenna repeated the words as if she'd never heard them before. “I guess I have. You know I've never forgotten my birthday before. I must be getting old and senile.” She slid off the bar stool and took her plate to the sink. Then she walked over to look at the calendar. “Gee, March first. Maybe that's why I feel kinda of funny today.”

  “Watcha mean?”

  “I--I don't know, really.” Brenna rinsed her hands and dried them. “Silly as it may sound, I just feel like something special is going to happen.”

  “Something is goin' to happen. Ya goin' to get ya cast off, and I'm goin' to bake ya a birthday cake.”

  Brenna smiled. She knew that's not what she meant, but thank goodness, she still had good old Geraldine to stand by her.

  Geraldine put away the last dish and untied her apron. “Let's get ya to the doc's, so ya can burn those things.” She pointed to the crutches.

  “Amen!”

  When they drove through town, Brenna noticed the new bank had been completed on the outside, but there still wasn't any sign on the door to tell her its name.

  “Geraldine, have you heard which bank's coming to town?”

  “Nope. Seems to be a dang secret.” Geraldine turned into the hospital's parking lot. “Can't imagine why. I heard tell the town council is plannin' a big to do.”

  “Well, I hope it's anybody other than who I bank with now. And someone with lower interest rates,” Brenna commented as she got out of the jeep and started for the admittance office. The last time she had arrived at the hospital Taylor had rushed over to help her. Now it was get there the best way she could, but she wouldn't be helpless much longer. She gave a satisfying smile. Soon. Very soon, she'd be back to her independent self.

  Brenna didn't have to wait long before she was summoned to the doctor's office. She left Geraldine reading a magazine in the waiting room as Brenna hobbled her last time down the shiny white and brown, tiled floors.

  “Are you sure you're ready to get this cast off?” Dr. Mac teased as she entered his examining room.

  “If you don't take this thing off today,” she fired back as she pointed to the lump of plaster, “I assure you, I will.”

  Dr. Mac chuckled. “Well, I guess you've been patient enough.”

  When the cast was removed, with an instrument that sounded much like a chain saw, Brenna stared down at her chalky white foot. “Oooo dead skin.” The horrible thing at the end of her leg looked dead. She definitely needed to put some cream on her foot and cut her toenails.

  Dr. Mac wheeled Brenna down the hall to have her foot X-rayed, and then escorted her to the back part of the building where physical therapy was located. “I want you to spend a couple of hours with the therapist to learn what you need to do at home. It appears you have healed nicely, but please give it a little while before you start skiing again.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” Brenna squeezed his hand affectionately. “I don't believe I want to ski any more this year, thank you.”

  “But you will again,” he predicted. “Just be careful.” He turned to leave, but asked over his shoulder. “By the way, where's your friend?”

  “Taylor went back home,” she managed to say matter-of-factly.

  “I hope he comes back. Seemed like a real nice fellow.”

  Brenna gave him a weak smile. She knew Taylor would never come back. But she couldn't say the words.

  “I've wasted your day at the hospital,” Brenna told Geraldine as she hung her coat on the peg. “I never imagined it would take so long.”

  “Don't fret, child. Doctor Mac told me ya would be awhile, so I came home and baked ya a cake,” Geraldine said very cheerfully, leaving Brenna to wonder about her strange mood. Even Geraldine had been somber lately.

  “By the way, Lisa called and said she's goin' over to Joyce's after school. Now run along and check on the fire. I believe it needs more wood.” Geraldine reached across the table and placed the cake in front of her. “I'm goin' to make this here cake real pretty for ya.”

  She watched as Brenna moved slowly across the room. “How's ya foot?”

  “It feels strange and a little weak. I just need to take it slow at first.” Brenna went to the living room wondering again at Geraldine's almost odd behavior. She was grinning like a possum . . . like she had a secret. Brenna reached into the black metal box beside the hearth for some kindling and tossed it into the fire, then she took some fresh oak wood to pile on the hot coals.

  She poked at the fire and waited while the flames danced and popping around the logs until it finally caught fire. Fires were so cozy. She and Taylor had spent some good times in front of this fireplace.

  Suddenly, she had the strangest feeling she wasn't alone. That someone was staring at her. Turning to see if her imagination had gotten carried away, she gasped.

  She wasn't alone.

  Taylor stood casually in the doorway propped against the frame. His beige cashmere coat lay cross the back of the chair. Dressed in a three-piece, charcoal suit that had a thin red pin stripe running through it, he appeared to have just stepped out of GQ Magazine.

  Brenna realized she wasn't breathing so she gulped a breath of air and slowly stood. She reached and grabbed the back of her rocking chair for support. Her heart raced at a maddening pace while she wondered if she had wanted to see Taylor so badly that she merely imagined him. He couldn't really be standing over there.

  But those vivid blue eyes told her he was definitely here.

  But why?

  Had he come back to tell her he loved her and he couldn't live without her? No. That couldn't possibly be it because he would have told her that on the phone. So maybe, he stopped by to tell her he'd married Carol. But then she had hung up on him before he had a chance to tell her anything. Brenna's eyes flew to his hand, but it was hidden behind his back.

  “I see you're confused as to why I'm here.”

  Taylor's voice sounded cold, though not harsh, and Brenna couldn't find her voice at all. She wanted to tell him to go to hell for not calling her right away, yet she wanted to run to him and beg him not to leave.

  Had she completely lost her mind?

  A slow lazy smile slid across his face. “You didn't think I'd miss your birthday, did you?”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Y--You remembered?”

  “Of course I did. But that's not the only reason I came back. I came back for an answer . . . the answer only you can give me.” Taylor stood up straight, and Brenna could see he had grown very serious. “And I'm not leaving w
ithout the truth.” He enunciated each word carefully so she'd understand. “Why did you leave me?”

  “What about Carol?”

  “This is between you and me.”

  Brenna clenched her teeth against all the half-truths they had told each other. This time she would demand some answers of her own. “We have discussed this before. I--I can't tell you.”

  A tense moment of silence surrounded them, before Taylor said, “Yes, we did. But I want an answer this time. Is it because you didn't love me?”

  “No.” She shook her head and pleaded with her eyes for him to understand. “You've got it all wrong. I've always loved you --I loved you so much . . .” her voice broke, and she had to wait a minute before she could continue. “I couldn't hurt you and turn your life into the shambles mine had become.”

  Her words seemed to have no effect on him. His expression was unchanged as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a document. Holding it by the corner, he let it fall open.

  “The contract!” Brenna gasped and grabbed her mouth before she could stop herself. Immediately, she recognized the paper she'd so foolishly signed three years ago. His mother must have been desperate to give that document to him. How he must hate her? At the moment, none of this made any sense. She lowered her hand. “But how did you get that?”

  “Yes, it's the contract, Sweetheart. With your name on it,” he said calmly. Too calmly. Then he started toward her like a lion after his lioness. “Did my love mean so little to you that you could be bought off? Didn't you think that I would provide for you and Lisa?”

  He knew. Brenna thought, miserable. Well at least she could tell him everything. “Your mother said I would ruin your life if I stayed in River Run. Everybody was talking about the murders. You know that. You saw how people stared at me. As your mother pointed out, we would be nothing but a burden to you, and you deserved better. You had a bright future ahead of you, Taylor.”