The Sweetest Thing

by Barbara Freethy

  "We can't," she said.

  He groaned. "I'm losing my mind."

  She let out a long breath of air. "Sometimes, when you kiss me like that, I feel like I lose myself, like I don't know where I end and you begin."

  Her words reminded him of how much he'd like to merge their bodies into one, and he had to fight to hang on to some semblance of control. This was Faith. This was the wrong woman, the wrong time. So why did she feel so right, so perfect in his arms?

  Faith took a step back, straightening her clothes, which had become entangled in his hands. "I -- we should go back to the kitchen."

  "And do what -- pretend we're not frustrated, pretend we don't want each other?"

  "I didn't say that." Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you angry?"

  "Because I want you."

  "And that makes you mad?"

  "As a matter of fact, it does."

  She placed her hands on her hips, her eyes filled with fire. "I'm not going to apologize because you want me."

  "Did I ask you to?"

  "You're spoiling for a fight. Why? Because if we're arguing, you won't want to kiss me?"

  Beautiful and smart. He was in very big trouble. "Maybe."

  She sent him a long, steady look. "Is it working?"

  "No." He offered her a small, helpless smile.

  "Too bad for you."

  "I don't suppose you want me, too?"

  "What do you think?" she challenged.

  "We're both crazy."

  "Yeah, crazy."

  "Alex?" Julian stepped into the hallway, interrupting their conversation. "Who was on the phone?"

  Alex turned to his grandfather. "That was Dorothea Conrad, Suzannah's sister-in-law."

  Julian braced his hand against the wall. "You found Suzannah?" he asked in a stunned voice.

  "We found her sister-in-law." Alex hated the disappointment that filled Julian's eyes. He knew the impossible hope that lived in his grandfather's heart, but he wasn't as certain of Suzannah's reaction upon hearing that Julian was looking for her. After all, she'd had fifty years to find Julian as well, if she'd wanted to do such a thing.

  "What did she say?" Julian asked.

  "She said Suzannah moved to Flagstaff, Arizona, two years ago, after her husband died."

  Julian appeared dazed, emotions flitting through his eyes one after another, ranging from surprise to worry, and finally to pleasure. "She went back."

  "To where it began," Faith finished softly.

  Alex looked at her, seeing the same joy reflected in her eyes. "Suzannah may not want to see any of us." He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but someone in the family had to stay sane.

  "She'll see me," Julian said.

  "It is strange that she'd go back there after so many years," Faith said. "It wasn't as if she came from there."

  "Maybe she just thought it would be a nice place to retire," Alex suggested.

  "Flagstaff is not far from where we were," Julian said.

  "Speaking of where you were," Alex began. "It's been more than fifty years. The landscape has changed. It's possible, even with the other half of the pot, that you may not be able to find the place where the pot was originally buried."

  "I've thought of that, Alex, but there was a rock formation that drew me to that particular place. It looked like two butterflies dancing, very distinctive. I'm sure it would still be there."

  "But..." Alex stopped as Faith swayed slightly, her face now losing all signs of color, her eyes taking on a bemused look.

  "Faith! Faith!" He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "What's going on? What's happening to you?"

  "The butterfly rocks. I saw them in my dream. How could I have dreamt something that I didn't know about until just this second?"

  He didn't like the fear in her eyes. He didn't like the truth in her words. "Coincidence?"

  She turned to Julian. "The rocks were at the top of a cliff?"

  "Yes."

  Alex felt suddenly chilled. He didn't believe in hocus-pocus, in dreams, in magic, or even in curses. But dammit all, how the hell had Faith dreamed about rocks that looked like butterflies? Or was she just letting Julian's musings take over her own mind?

  "It's real. The dreams are real. They're about the pot. We have to find Suzannah," she said to Alex.

  "Faith, you're letting your imagination take over your head."

  "I don't think imagination is taking over my mind. It's something else, something darker."

  Alex cleared his throat. He didn't want to hear any more. He didn't want to believe that Faith was some mysterious conduit to the past. "Okay, fine. We'll just have to wait until Suzannah calls us back. Now, don't we have eggs to finish coloring?"

  "Don't worry, Miss Faith. We'll find Suzannah," Julian said as he walked away.

  Faith turned to Alex. "What about the other woman? The one in my dreams? I don't think she's Suzannah."

  "Who do you think she is?"

  "The one who made the pot."

  Alex stiffened. The pottery dated back to prehistoric times, to the Anasazi, to a culture who had disappeared off the face of the earth, and no one knew why. "That's ridiculous, Faith. You're just imagining the people who owned that pot. You probably read a story somewhere and now your mind is filling in the details."

  "I'd like to believe that was true."

  "Then believe it, because it makes more sense than anything else."

  Faith's eyes lost their glazed look, and Alex felt a wave of relief. For a moment he'd felt like he'd lost her. "You're right." She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her neck. "I'm just making up a story to go with the pot. That has to be it."

  "So it's back to reality -- to colored dye and bunny stickers."

  "Somehow, I don't think you envisioned colored eggs and bunny stickers as part of your reality."

  "No, but they don't bother me as much as ancient curses and beautiful, passionate redheads."

  Faith slipped her arm through is. "Alex, deep down in your heart, where your rational mind doesn't go, do you think we'll find Suzannah?"

  "I'm afraid we just might."

  "Why afraid?"

  His whole body tightened at her question. "Because finding Suzannah will not be the end. It will only be the beginning."

  Chapter Twenty

  He called to her from the darkness, and Faith wanted to go to him, but how could she? The man by her side had a hold of her arm, a stern, unyielding grip. The ceremony was about to begin. Her marriage ceremony.

  It was her duty to go with this man, to be his wife, to bear his children. She put a hand to her womb, feeling a yearning that had nothing to do with babies, but the warrior in the darkness.

  She could not forget the heat of his mouth on her lips, the touch of his hand on her breasts, and her heart cried out at the injustice of it all. How could she marry another when she loved him?

  She yanked her arm free in a wild burst of rebellion and made her choice, an irretrievable choice. She ran toward the shadows. She heard them call out to her, heard the strange words and knew in her heart exactly what they meant -- betrayal, punishment, death.

  She seemed to run forever, the warrior, the pot, always just out of reach. "Come to me,'' she screamed. But he only got farther away. She had thought he wanted her. Now she was chasing him through the canyon, and suddenly she was alone, all alone. Where had he gone? What had she done?

  She suddenly wanted to go back to the safety of the circle and the fire and her family, but the walls of the cliffs rose up around her, coming closer until she was surrounded, entombed. She would die here -- now -- without him... "No," she screamed. "No."

  Faith awoke with a rush. She sat up in bed, screaming no, until she realized that no one was listening. She was no longer in the past but the present. Why had the warrior disappeared when she'd gone to him? It didn't make sense. He'd begged her to come, and when she'd chosen him over the other, he'd vanished. Why?

  Her head pounded, her heart raced, and the ques
tions came faster than the answers.

  "What happened to you?" she whispered to the woman who had invaded her mind. Because surely there was another woman. She couldn't have lived those days. She didn't believe in reincarnation. Of course, she didn't believe in spirits invading her dreams either, until now.

  She lay back on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, trying to make sense of it all. But none of it made sense. Why had the man run away? She closed her eyes and wondered if the dream would go on if she fell back asleep, if she would find out what had happened to the warrior and the woman who loved him.

  The dream wouldn't come. She tried desperately to recreate the images in her head, but they danced away from her like those elusive butterflies.

  "Tell me more, dammit," she said out loud, opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling. "It isn't fair to leave me hanging like this." Great, now she was talking to herself. So much for convincing herself that she was not losing her mind.

  After a few more minutes of restless tossing and turning, Faith decided to get up. She had a lot of work to do, and she might as well get started. There would be time enough later to sort out Suzannah and Julian and the two lovers from another time, because she had a feeling they would be back. As Alex had said, finding Suzannah would not be the end but the beginning.

  * * *

  "I've found Eddie Saunders," Pete told Alex just before noon on Friday.

  Alex sat down in his chair, surprised by the news. He'd expected Pete to show up with more excuses about why he couldn't find Jessie's father. He'd been prepared to tell him to get on with it already, to get some results. He'd been prepared to yell and scream and even pay more money. He had not been prepared for this.

  Pete sat down in the leather armchair in front of Alex's desk. He was dressed in a faded pair of jeans and a rugby shirt. Pete had the weary, reality-worn face of an ex-cop, a divorced father, and an overworked private investigator. He obviously had no time or patience for social graces as he cut straight to the heart of the matter.

  "Eddie Saunders lives in Los Angeles. He's a character actor who worked a few years on a television series. He gets bit parts in movies every other year or so and manages to make his mortgage on a modest home in the San Fernando Valley." Pete consulted the small notebook in his hand. "Eddie has been married twice, the first time to Blair Garvey, a soap actress. The marriage lasted eleven months until Miss Garvey took a lover. Eddie stayed single for the next five years, until he married Lucy Jones, now Lucy Saunders, a lingerie model. They've been married almost two years and have no children." Pete paused for breath, his shrewd gaze hitting Alex head-on. "Do you want to know more?"

  Alex didn't want to know this much. He felt like he couldn't catch his breath, like he'd been tackled by a three-hundred-pound lineman from the New York Jets. He opened his mouth and searched for air but came up empty.

  Pete looked down at his notebook. "Eddie Saunders is a good-looking guy, known to be a ladies' man. He likes to party. Las Vegas is one of his favorite destinations, and he has a weakness for old Scotch. His friends say he's basically a good guy. Tends to be a bit greedy when playing poker and has been known to bet his last dollar on the turn of a card. But since he married Lucy, he's settled down, taken a recurring role on an afternoon soap opera, and is trying to quit smoking."

  The guy sounded like a total loser to Alex's mind. A partier, a gambler, a playboy. Although he had to admit some of those adjectives might be applied to him as well as to Eddie. But Alex immediately sent the thought away. Eddie and he were nothing alike. They were absolutely and completely different men.

  "Have you spoken to Eddie about Jessie?" Alex asked finally.

  "Nope. I just find my prey, I don't eat them."

  Alex made a face at the gruesome analogy. "He might be happy to learn he has a daughter."

  "Yeah, right. This is a guy who works out six hours a day, who stares in the mirror more than my ex-wife, and gets to have sex every night with a woman who models underwear. I' m sure he'll be thrilled to find out he has an adolescent daughter."

  "Hey, that's not my problem, it's his." But Alex would have to be the one to tell Jessie her father had been found. His stomach turned over at the thought. She would be hurt, devastated. How could he do that to her?

  "I have a phone number." Pete shoved a piece of paper across the desk. "And an address. But I should tell you, he left town for a location shoot in Maui. Won't be back for a few days."

  "Oh, that's great. Just great." Alex stood up and walked around his office wondering what the hell he should do.

  "You can always call him in Maui."

  He could do that. Maybe he should do that. Get it over with.

  Pete ripped another sheet of paper out of his notebook. "He's staying at the Sheraton Hotel. Here's the number." Pete stood up. "Anything else I can do for you?"

  "Not at the moment."

  "Then I'll send you a bill."

  "Fine. Thanks," Alex said somewhat belatedly.

  "No problem. Tracking down missing fathers is becoming quite a lucrative sideline. Just don't be surprised if this guy wants DNA evidence. The thought of monthly child support, not to mention telling the current wife about the old love, tend to bring that out in a man."

  "I don't want Eddie to send money to Jessie. I want him to be her father."

  "Well, good luck. I think you'll need it."

  Alex watched Pete leave, then returned to his desk. He sat down and stared at the two pieces of paper for well on five minutes. Then he picked up the phone.

  * * *

  Faith wiped her brow with the back of her hand, leaving a trail of flour across her forehead. She could feel the grainy powder but was too tired to worry about removing it. She'd been baking since six o'clock that morning without a break, and it was almost lunchtime. Not that she had time to take lunch. She was far too busy for that.

  Nancy had called in just before ten saying she was still sick. Faith had told her to stay home. She'd called in Pam an hour early and welcomed Jessie with open arms a few minutes later, setting the teenager to work after a brief course in customer relations.

  So far, it seemed to be working well.

  "I'm going home," Jessie announced from the doorway.

  So much for going well.

  Faith looked at the clock and sighed. She had no right to expect Jessie to spend all day at the bakery, but still...

  "I'll be back," Jessie said. "I just want to get something to eat."

  "Oh, good," Faith said with relief. "I'll pay you, Jess, for all your help today. I really appreciate it."

  "You don't have to pay me."

  "I want to. You have been an angel."

  Jessie smiled self-consciously and shuffled her feet.

  "I'll be back in a half hour, okay? Do you want me to bring you something?"

  "Just yourself. How's Julian, by the way? I never got a chance to ask you."

  "He's waiting by the phone for Suzannah to call."

  "Well, I hope he won't be disappointed."

  "Do you really think he's going to find her? It's been so long."

  "I hope so. I'd kind of like to meet her after all that I've heard about her."

  "Yeah, me, too." Jessie paused. "Alex said he'd take us to dinner at Fisherman's Wharf tonight and that we could ride a cable car. Do you want to come?"

  "No, thanks. I'm going to be baking all night."

  "I think Alex is starting to like me," Jessie said somewhat hesitantly. "I'm trying to be good."

  "I know you are, Jess, and you're doing a great job."

  "Do you think Alex will keep me if I'm not any trouble?"

  Oh, Lord, how many times had Faith asked that same question about how many parents? She couldn't remember. She just knew that some decisions could not be swayed by good intentions. "I hope so," she said finally, knowing that Jessie would believe the half answer more than she'd believe anything else.

  "Yeah, me, too."

  The phone rang and Faith wav
ed Jessie along. She answered it on the second ring. "Faith's Fancies. Can I help you?"

  "You can start by telling me just what Faith fancies." Alex's deep, rich baritone voice sent her stomach into its familiar gut-clenching tumble.

  "Right about now I fancy a long, hot bath and a soothing massage."

  "I like the sound of that."

  "And a really comfortable bed where I could..."

  "Where you could what?" he prodded. "Play naked in the sheets with the man of your choice?"

  "No, where I could sleep. I'm tired."

  "And I'm disgusted. Your fancies definitely need work."

  Faith leaned against the wall. "Why are you calling, Alex?"

  "Maybe I just wanted to talk to you, see how you were? I had a dream last night."

  She started. "About cliffs and canyons and a wedding ceremony by the fire?"

  "No. I dreamt about eggs, yellow eggs, blue eggs, green eggs, pink eggs. And I think I even saw a bunny in there somewhere."

  Faith smiled to herself, disappointed that he hadn't had the same dream she had, but at least he wasn't dreaming about profit-and-loss statements. "Alex, I'm busy. I'd love to analyze your dream, but now is not the time."

  "Faith, don't hang up yet." His voice turned serious, and she twisted the phone cord between nervous fingers.

  "What's wrong? Did you hear from Suzannah?"

  "No." He paused for a long, tense moment. "I heard from my private investigator. He found Jessie's father."

  Faith felt her heart sink to the floor. Jessie would be horribly disappointed, and she knew exactly what that pain felt like.

  "Faith, are you there?"

  Faith cleared her throat. "I guess that's good news for you."

  "Yeah."

  "So when is he coming?"

  "I don't know. He's in Hawaii at the moment. He doesn't know yet -- about Jess. I have his number. I guess all I have to do is call him."