That left the two of them face-to-face in the pool of light.
“Annette—”
“Acting, politics and law enforcement—that’s quite a future she has planned.” She cut off whatever he had intended to say with a bright smile aimed toward his daughter, who was discovering the faster she went, the faster her quarry went. Apparently Squid was one of the non-squeezable cats.
Steve’s pause was so short it would have been easy to miss. “Oh, this is a big improvement. What worried me was when she wanted to be Amelia Earhart, complete with flying around the world and crash-landing on a Pacific island. Or possibly being abducted by aliens. Now that gave me gray hair.”
“You don’t have any gray hair.”
Spoken words should come with a string for reeling them back in. Better yet, a backspace key like on computers, which would wipe them out as if they had never existed. Especially when the words sparked a flame in the depths of his eyes. Blue-gray eyes should be cool and distant. Not smoldering. But maybe the gray was smoke, and the blue the ultra-hot—
“I meant what I said this morning, Steve.”
“I know you did.”
“About the past. There’s no sense talking about it, because it can’t be changed. And the future. I’m leaving as soon as Max heals or Juney’s back on the job. Whichever comes first.”
“I know.”
“Okay then.”
She was spared from uttering any more inanities by Miss Trudi’s arrival.
“Oh, good, you’re here.” She addressed Steve, though her gaze bounced from him to Annette.
“Miss Trudi, Squid won’t let me catch him,” announced Nell from a corner.
“Smart cat,” Steve murmured. He was enjoying this entirely too much.
“You need the right plan,” Miss Trudi called to Nell at the same time she tapped Steve’s arm in reproof. “A cat-catching plan. We can work on that next week if Gert is still under the weather.”
She looked at Steve in question. Annette didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I’m sure you all have things to discuss, and I should be going. Miss Trudi, if you’ll just tell me where my coat is—?”
“Oh, my dear! I’m so sorry. Did you think I was holding you prisoner by absconding with your outerwear?” Her trill of laughter didn’t hide the glint in her eyes. Miss Trudi knew very well that’s what Annette thought, because that’s exactly what Miss Trudi had done. “All you had to do was ask Nell. She knows where I keep the coats. Nell, will you please run and get Annette’s coat?”
Nell returned with her coat and without the cat, and in another second Annette had said farewell to Miss Trudi and Nell.
Steve reached the door before her, taking a firm grip on the inside handle.
“Sorry about all the questions,” he said in a low voice. “I tried to warn you.”
She passed him and stepped onto the small porch. Clouds huddled together across the sky, bringing a chilly dark. Compared to the dark and cold outside, Miss Trudi’s kitchen glowed more enticingly than ever.
“No problem. It just took—” My breath away. Or was it the questions that had done that? “—me by surprise.”
After dinner, which Nell picked at, Steve took the trash to the curb for the morning’s collection. He supposed strawberry jam and bread had enough vitamin D that she wouldn’t become the first reported case of rickets in Tobias. She’d eaten enough of the treat to leave a red crust around her mouth that had stubbornly resisted attempts to wipe it off. Nell had resisted almost as stubbornly. He should have tackled her face before it hardened. He’d had something else on his mind.
His mind…right.
Even as he’d hurried through his meeting, his rational mind had known she wasn’t in distress of any kind—not physical, not emotional, not anything. But raising Nell had humbled his rational mind more times than he could count.
The instant he saw she was perfectly at ease, he’d recognized a twin fear had pushed him. Annette’s pain. To the world, Nell was the embodiment of his betrayal of Annette. Yet before she’d stepped behind that frosted glass, he hadn’t seen pain or hurt in Annette’s eyes. He’d seen only enjoyment of his daughter.
And in a turnaround as fast as a snap of the fingers, another reaction far from reason had hit him. Annette and Nell, warmth and amusement on their faces. The two people who had given him the most love and the greatest joy. He’d never thought to see them together. Yet there they sat, eating bread and jam. In that moment, he had known Annette might try to deny the bridge that connected them or dynamite it, but she was way off the mark saying it was gone. And dead wrong in saying it never should have been built.
When they had made love, she would reach to him, ready to take him inside her with a generosity, heat and joy that never failed to amaze him. She gave him the full measure of her response. It had fascinated him, awed him.
When he could hold himself back from his own driving need—or when she had already fulfilled it—he loved to touch her. Sometimes just for the pleasure of her texture. Sometimes to push her toward her pleasure while he watched it magnify her beauty. That he could make her feel that way, feel that joy—
“Frozen in place?”
His head snapped up at a voice from the darkness. He was instantly aware of cold rushing in like someone had opened the freezer door. He’d been standing at the end of his driveway for God knew how long with his thoughts warm enough to insulate him from one of those turn-on-a-dime Wisconsin weather changes.
“Fran?” He spotted his bundled-up neighbor. “What are you doing out here?”
“Rescuing forsythia.”
Fran had a penchant for rescues. She’d come to his rescue often as an emergency baby-sitter. And there’d been her good sense in turning down his marriage proposal. She’d also been instrumental in his buying this house.
While Miss Trudi’s great-grandfather had kept his land intact, Steve’s great-great-grandfather had divided his property into judicious pieces, selling to “the best people.” Lots extended from Lakeview Street in front to Kelly Street in back. The Corbett house held the middle, on a significantly wider lot, like a monarch with outriders guarding each flank.
Steve’s house was on Kelly Street, kitty-corner behind the house he’d grown up in. He almost hadn’t bought it because of that.
After he’d toured the house, Fran asked what he wanted in a house. When he’d ticked off his list, she’d looked from the house for sale to the Corbett house to him. “Seems to me it has only three drawbacks. Location, location, location.”
The gentle ribbing stuck. He didn’t require physical distance from Lana to raise Nell his way, so down the street or a mile away, what difference did it make? Lana had said he went behind her back, since she expected him and Nell to live with her. He’d wryly acknowledged he was moving in behind her, but that didn’t qualify as going behind her back. She hadn’t seen the humor. She so seldom did.
“Why does forsythia need rescuing?” He stepped into the street, and Fran advanced into the streetlight’s glow.
“A forsythia on the south side was lured into thinking spring was here. If I don’t bring it inside, it will freeze. Here, take this—” he took a branch from her “—and put it in water. Nell will love it. How’re you? You look a little distracted.”
“It’s been one of those weeks.”
She cut him a look. “So I heard.”
He could talk to Fran. She would hold his confidence. But that didn’t seem right when there were so many things he hadn’t told Annette.
“Next week should be quieter,” he said with false confidence.
Chapter Six
Max had to be the worst patient who’d ever fallen off a ladder.
The doctor said to take it easy for the rest of the week. Annette interpreted that as through the weekend. Max declared Friday was the end of the week, and therefore he could work.
In the end, Annette drove him to the work sites and to see a client and heard all about the Henderson
s’ addition, the Garrisons’ basement remodeling and the proposed conversion of a barn into a workshop for Tom Dunwoody, Junior’s retired father, who carved duck decoys.
The decoys were beautiful, but by that time Annette was convinced Max was both exhausted and in pain—he’d refused a pain pill because he wanted his head clear. At each stop she’d tried to get him to leave earlier than he wanted. By the time they got home they were both surly.
After lunch, he read aloud from the Tobias Record about Steve’s report to the hospital board, and she made a crack about the Corbetts and noblesse oblige.
Max lowered the paper. “I can’t say I’m a fan of the Corbetts, but when I look at what Steve’s done for this town I’ve got to respect him.”
“Is this the same Max Trevetti who warned me when I got engaged that I was marrying the Corbetts, and I better be sure the man was worth it?”
“I’m not going to pretend he hasn’t done good because he’s a Corbett.” His stern look didn’t waver. “I’ve told you the business has been going good. Why do you think that is?”
“Because people know you’re a great builder.”
“If there’s no money, nobody’s going to build—it doesn’t matter how great I am. I’ve got business because this town’s coming to life. You saw the new emergency room, but have you looked at the lakefront? There’s life downtown. Steve’s been pushing that through bit by bit. He found the developer who took over the old resort and reopened it. He’s brought in a lot of jobs.”
Using one hand, he tried to fold the paper. The pages resisted, leaving a sloppy lump. “I’m going for a walk.”
“You shouldn’t—” He was gone before she could finish.
Or admit she was wrong.
Max was right, she had no idea what Steve had done for Tobias. Somewhere in the back of her mind she’d wondered if he would follow through on his plans for a legal clinic. Or if, once he had a law degree, he would fall in line with Lana’s expectations. Steve’s father had been a power in state politics; his mother had expected the next generation to advance to the national scene. Annette had to admit Steve had not followed Lana’s script.
It was oddly unsettling that he kept kicking at the sides of the mental mold she’d put him in seven years ago.
The phone rang, and Annette decided Tobias was really getting to her when she looked at a phone as if it were an alien spaceship. Worse, her throat clogged up when she recognized the caller as Suzanna Grant. As if she were some urchin besieged on all sides and Suz were her only friend in the world.
“How is he, Annette?”
“He’s being totally impossible. You would think he would be as eager as I am to let this time in Tobias pass with as few ripples as possible. But, no, he pops up all over the place like some six-foot…” She was not going to describe him as a guardian angel out loud. “Some six-foot Waldo.”
The quality of the silence slid right under Annette’s skin.
“Please, don’t you tell me, too, that I’m being unfair. I know Tobias is a small town. I know he has reason to be at Town Hall, and I understand the post office. But the grocery store? Cleaners? And Miss Trudi’s with his daughter? Always when I’m there? Oh, I know it’s not all him. Miss Trudi is in it up to her eyeballs. But let me tell you I am not imagining this and I’m not paranoid.”
“Uh, Annette?”
“I know, I know, you didn’t say I’m paranoid, and I’m sorry for snapping.”
“Actually, I was wondering about Max.”
“Max has been no help. You would think they’d become best buddies.” She pushed her hair back with one hand. “Okay, that’s not entirely true, but Max has no idea what it’s like to keep running into— Not that it’s a big deal.”
“I want to hear about this, really I do, but first, can you tell me, how’s Max? His head, his wrist—is he healing okay?”
Annette felt air flow into her mouth from her jaw dropping. She wanted to drop through the floor. Max. Of course Suz had been asking about Max. While she had blabbed on about Steve.
She dropped the receiver.
Suz’s worried voice came clear even before Annette had the receiver to her ear. “Annette, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Tear-soaked words emerged limp.
“You’re fine, but you’re crying. Your first thought when I asked how is he wasn’t for your injured brother. And you’re saying Max—the original and never-improved-upon model for a protective big brother—is no help. All I can say is, I think you’re in the Twilight Zone. The rest maybe can be explained, but Max being no help when some guy is stalking you makes the Twilight Zone the only—”
“He’s not stalking me. Steve wouldn’t—”
“Steve. Steve? As in Steve Corbett? And you said you met his daughter?”
Annette was reasonably certain she hadn’t mentioned Steve’s name to Suz for six years. Maybe five. Or…maybe she hadn’t put Steve as completely out of her heart, mind and vocabulary as she had told herself. She nodded as she sank into a kitchen chair then added, “Uh-huh.”
“Wow. That must have been tough.”
“She’s just a little girl. None of it’s her fault.”
“No, of course not, but she is the reason—”
“She’s not the reason. She did nothing but be born. It’s the actions of the adults that—not even so much Lily. Lily wasn’t supposed to be getting married…. Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m crying about this after all this time.”
“You need to deal with all the emotions.”
“I dealt with these emotion years ago. I dealt with the fact that the man I was going to marry didn’t even wait for the wedding to cheat on me. I dealt with the fact that I asked for an answer at the altar and he couldn’t be bothered to respond until it was convenient. I dealt with it by making a new future.”
“These are different emotions.”
Annette opened then closed her mouth. Some people viewed Suzanna Grant as strictly decorative. They were fools.
Yes, the emotions were different, because she and Steve were different people. In different circumstances. In different lives. She stood and walked to the sink, looking beyond blooms of frost on the window to the cloud-spattered sky.
“You’re right. Thank you, Suz. They are different emotions, and I will deal with them. But that isn’t why you called. Now, about Max…” She gave Suz a no-nonsense rundown of Max’s injuries, prognosis and stubbornness. She wrapped up. “I am so sorry, Suz, for not keeping you up to date.”
“It sounds like you’ve had a lot going on. Not that I would pry. I’ll just say…so Steve Corbett is following you around, but you are not being paranoid?”
“No, you wouldn’t pry. Uh-uh, not Suzanna Grant.”
“So, when did you first see him? Tell all.”
A half hour later Annette had told all…nearly all. And darned if she didn’t feel better.
“I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to meet that little girl.” In Suz’s husky voice, Annette heard loyalty and sympathy.
“That was my first reaction, but honestly, Suz, she’s such an individual, it’s hard to see her as anyone but herself.” She gave a dry chuckle. “I hate to admit it, but Miss Trudi might have been right to manipulate me into getting it over with. But I still hate being manipulated.”
“No kidding.”
Suz slid into discussing the sale of their company. For Annette, it was like the final step onto solid ground. A feeling that didn’t evaporate even when Suz shifted gears. “So, what do you think Steve Corbett’s up to? Is he playing some game?”
“It doesn’t matter because as long as I don’t play, it can’t be a game.”
“You sound like your old certain self. You know, instead of mailing you those papers, why don’t I come up tonight and bring them? You need anything else? More clothes?”
“That would be great. Would you bring the TV from my bedroom, too? It’s basketball tournament time, and if I want a break, I’ll need it. Plan
on staying for the weekend. I’ll take the couch, and—”
“No problem on the clothes and TV, but it’s my turn for the couch, and I’ll have to leave tomorrow afternoon. I have a date.”
“Anybody I know?”
“No.”
“Another first date? Suz—”
“I know, I know. No reason to say it, I’ll run the appropriate tape from the Annette lecture series.”
She chuckled despite herself. “Yeah? Do I really lecture that much?”
“Only because you love me and want what’s best for me. At least that’s what you keep saying.”
Annette came out of the library and turned in the opposite direction from the parking lot. She needed some air.
She’d stopped at the bank, the bookstore and the video store, then walked to the library on impulse. Three heads had turned in her direction from the checkout desk. She didn’t recognize any of the women, but as she passed, three voices said soft hellos, and one added that it was wonderful to see her and asked how Max was recovering.
All three sent best wishes for Max and said to be sure to call if he or she needed anything. Not likely, she’d thought as she made her way into the stacks, in search of a mystery the bookstore said was out of print, since she had no idea who the women were.
“Hi, Annette.” The soft voice came from behind her as she pulled the book off the shelf.
She recognized the speaker—Fran Dalton, who grew up next to the Corbetts. Her brother, Rob, was Steve’s longtime friend. Annette had gotten to know Rob when they were all at Madison. A year after the wedding debacle, they’d run into each other in Chicago. She would have kept walking after the initial hello. He wouldn’t let her.
Fran, a year behind Annette in school, qualified as only an acquaintance.
Still, Annette’s smile and greeting were genuine. Fran still favored bland clothes, but she had a wonderful smile, and Annette had always found the younger woman pleasant.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Annette. I’m glad you’ve come home.”
“For a visit.”
Fran smiled slightly. “That’s what I thought when I came back.”
Wedding of the Century Page 9
