She shrugged helplessly. “My real name is Melody. Michelle was my middle name. Melody Michelle Middleton.” She smiled without humor. “My mother loved saying my name out loud.”
He nodded. “And your married name was Hammond. Which explains why I couldn’t find your records without hiring a P.I. and giving him your social security number.” His voice was low and calm, but his eyes were flickering, looking for her reaction.
She didn’t pause to consider that he knew her real name. She clenched her hands into weak fists. Her throat was so constricted, she could barely breathe. She hadn’t talked about the accident since it happened, three long years ago. After she’d moved out of the state and left her friends behind, she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone again. “There was this car crash…” Her voice trailed off.
“I know,” Adam said gently. “The P.I. found the story of the accident in a copy of the newspaper. I even have a copy of the police report. Every last detail, preserved on microfiche.” Sympathetic pain crossed Adam’s face and he grimaced. “It sounds horrific. Your parents and your husband, all dead in the same car crash.” His voice broke. “Oh Micki, why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.” She sat in the nearest chair, forcing herself to stay calm. “I tried to. You’ve got to believe I tried. But the words just wouldn’t come out.”
The furrow thickened on his forehead and she could see his knuckles turning white from clenching his hands, but when he spoke his voice was gentle. “You lost a lot that night. I’m sorry.” Adam walked over to sit on the armrest of her chair and, with an apparent effort of will, unclenched his hands to place a comforting arm on her shoulder. “Can you talk about what happened now?”
“It was nothing that hasn’t happened thousands of times on other country roads. Just a simple car accident.” She began straightening the sleeves of her blouse, dusting invisible specks off her pants as she spoke. “Danny was driving my parents into town to see a show.”
“You didn’t go?”
“No!” She nearly cried out with pain, her calm abandoning her in a heated flash. “I was supposed to go with them. I meant to go.” Her voice trembled and Adam leaned over, murmuring gentle words. Reluctantly, she held him off. There was more she needed to explain.
“I had some almighty-important paperwork to do for my job and it was all taking too long and I didn’t really want to see the show anyway.” Her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “So they went without me.”
Micki looked up at him, guilt and anguish in her eyes. “If I’d gone to the movie with them, they wouldn’t have died.”
“Darling,” Adam shook his head with a frown. “You can’t feel guilty just because you weren’t in the car with them. That doesn’t make sense. They hit a deer on the highway. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But there was something else.” She was whispering again, her words halting and slow. “Something they didn’t put in the police report.” Micki began rocking, folding her arms across her chest. “The drive takes a half hour and they’d just been gone ten minutes when I remembered some fabric I needed from town. I was reupholstering the dining room chairs. Mother would know what I wanted. So I called her. On their cell phone.”
Adam started, watching her intently.
“I talked to Mother and she was just passing the phone along to Danny, when they saw the deer on the road.” Micki recited the memory in a daze. It was completely unreal. It couldn’t have happened to her.
“Mother screamed ‘Stop!’ I heard tires squealing and Dad yelling. Danny swore.” She looked at Adam with disbelief in her eyes. “Danny never swore. Then there was a horrible crunching and then silence. Nothing but the sound of raindrops falling on the car.”
“My God, Micki.”
Micki barely heard him. The words were pouring out of her. “I called 9-1-1, of course, but we’d only the one car at the cabin. The closest neighbors were gone, so I waded across the stream to the next house down the way. I must have looked a fright by the time I got to their door. Those people didn’t even know me, but they dropped everything to drive me to the hospital.” Her head throbbed with remembered horror. “They were all dead. By the time I got there they were all gone.”
“Oh, Micki.” Adam had a sheen of tears in his own eyes.
“The doctor said they died at the scene. Do you know what that means?” She gazed at him in panic. “Those screams on the cell phone were the last words they ever said.”
“Darling, oh darling,” Adam murmured, shaking his head in shared grief. “How could you have ever expected to get through this alone?” He held her, taking her shoulders lightly in his arms, but she pushed away. Now that she’d started, she needed to finish.
“I had friends at the funeral. Friends of mine from school. Danny’s friends. All my relatives and my parents’ friends. I’d gone to high school with the policeman who wrote the report and I begged him to not tell anyone the cell phone was on. I didn’t want anyone to know. I couldn’t let them know I’d killed my own family.” Micki’s voice was rising in hysteria and she tried to hold on, to finish telling Adam her story. “I had to get out. You can understand that can’t you?” At his silent nod, she continued, “I talked my employers into giving me a reference under the name Micki Vaughn. I packed my bags the day after the funeral and I’ve never seen any of my friends or relatives since. I just couldn’t bear what I’d done.” Her voice rose again and she looked at him with raw pain. “My God, Adam, I killed the people I loved the most in the world.”
“Micki! Stop it!” Adam’s voice was sharp and urgent. He shook her gently. “You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. It wasn’t your fault!”
“I can’t face this, Adam. I can’t bear what I did. I don’t deserve a home, a family. The only way I can keep going is to run farther away.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong!” He swung her shoulders around so he could meet her eyes. “You’re not alone, Micki. Not if you’ll let me help you. I love you. You’ve got to give me a chance to help.”
“You still love me?” A wild rush of thoughts cascaded through her mind, mesmerizing her. She could almost see the soft sticky clouds invading her mind, holding her in their grasp. This was it. She knew that. If she ever wanted to leave her memories behind, she had to take a chance and tell Adam the entire truth.
“Of course I love you,” he said, as if that were a given.
She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.
He went on. “Micki, I want to marry you.” At her lack of response he continued, “Or live with you. Less palatable, but I’ll do it.”
She shook her head, trying to break the cloud loose so she could speak.
“Don’t shake your head!” Adam’s voice was rough as he pleaded urgently. “You need someone to take care of you. I’ll do that. I won’t let it matter that it’s not me you’re dreaming of.”
But I am dreaming of you, she tried to say. Every night. Every morning. Every minute of every day. But she sat silently.
“Micki, don’t sit there so coldly. Just tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me what you need. I’m trying so hard to be what you want. All that you need.” His voice trailed away to a husky whisper and his eyes were pleading. “If only you loved me.”
“I do love you,” she finally managed to say.
He looked at her cautiously. “Did you just say you loved me?”
She stood up then and, moving like an automaton, stepped past him to the pile of clothing she had not yet packed. She took her coat and wrapped it around her, carefully buttoning all the buttons and tying the wrap.
When she finally spoke, her voice was clear and cold. “Do you want to know what I need?” She gestured at the door. “Come with me. I’ll show you.”
Adam frowned. “Micki? Are you feeling ill? Am I going too fast for you again?”
She shook her head. “It’s okay.”
“This must have been a terrible night for you. Dredg
ing up the past. Talking about the accident. You’re in shock.” He put an arm around her shoulder, trying to lead her back to the chair. “I’m demanding too much too soon again, aren’t I? Let’s sit down. We can see whatever it is you want to see in the morning.”
“No! We have to go now.” Her voice cracked suddenly. If she didn’t get him out the door and into the car soon, she’d lose her nerve. “If we don’t go now, I’ll never make it. Come on.”
“All right,” he said slowly. “If that’s what you want.”
The pounding in her head was so strong and so constant it was nearly a part of her. She was afraid if it stopped, she might lose her balance.
He opened her door and she slid into the passenger seat. Settling in beside her, he turned with a lightly wry smile that belied the concern in his eyes. “And might I know where to drive to?”
“We’re going to the southern Olympic peninsula. To the woods. Drive south to Olympia and then head west toward the ocean.”
Adam lifted an eyebrow but made no comment as he started his car, following her directions.
Micki settled back into a corner of the car, too exhausted to speak, gathering her strength for what would come next.
Chapter Fifteen
Adam drove swiftly, not attempting to make conversation. The full moon lit up the sky, bathing their route in pearl-white opalescence.
This was a drive Micki remembered well. It had been three years since she’d gone this way, but not too much had changed. Each passing landmark brought a barely perceptible nod.
Halfway between Olympia and the coast she silently pointed out a paved side road and Adam turned the car north on the small, twisting county lane.
“It fell.” They were the first words she’d spoken for nearly an hour and a half.
Adam looked at her in surprise. “What fell?”
“That barn.” Her eyes followed it as it disappeared behind them into the darkness and she turned to face forward again. “We always wondered when the roof would fall. We made bets on when it would happen. And now I missed the exact year. I wonder which one of us won the bet.”
“You drove here with Danny?” Adam kept his voice low, trying to not interrupt her thoughts.
She nodded. “All the time. This is where we went every weekend during school. We lived up here for a few summers.”
Passing a small stream, she wordlessly motioned for him to turn onto an unmarked dirt road.
“You certainly believed in getting away from it all, didn’t you?” Adam remarked dryly as the car hit another unavoidable series of potholes.
Micki nodded again. “Danny really liked it out here. He worked so hard in the city, with his fisheries studies and his job. But this place was his dream. He wanted to make a living out in the woods.”
“And you?” Adam spared her a quick glance, before looking back to the road.
“I liked it.” She paused to consider. “We had some wonderful times out here.”
“You sound hesitant.”
“I would have had to give up my career to live here. I could hardly work as a network analyst from this far out. Not unless I commuted several hours a day.”
The brush grew thicker around the car before she finally signaled the way into an old driveway. Though someone had made an effort to clear it recently, the road was crowded with scotch broom and alder, making it nearly impassable for the Jaguar. Adam drove in as far as possible before turning off the engine.
“Well,” she announced unnecessarily as she opened her door. “Here we are.”
The cabin shone in the moonlight like it had been waiting for them to arrive. The carefully peeled and rounded logs that made up the exterior gleamed a rich yellow and the clear paned windows reflected back the white orb of the moon.
Past the overgrown clearing, the silvery waters of Decker Creek burbled by on their long glide to the sea. It was a pristine stream and Danny had been overjoyed to find a home site available on its banks. Ocean salmon migrated up its clear waters and spawned in the gravel and it wasn’t uncommon to see bald eagles circling the waters, looking for a quick meal. She smiled to think that Danny had been right. It really was an idyllic spot.
Adam’s eyes were on her face. He caught her expression of wonder and seemed to slump a little. Quickly he pulled himself together and left the car to stand beside her. “This is your cabin.” It was a statement, not a question. “You lived here with Danny.”
“This was our cabin,” she agreed. “We built it, Danny and I. Log by log we built this cabin and finished the interior.” She gave a shaky laugh. “But we could never live here year round. Just weekends and vacations until Danny finished his degree and found a fisheries job out here.” She leaned against the side of the car, staring at the front walkway. “Danny cut the trees for the cabin himself.”
“Good God!” In spite of himself, Adam was both impressed and shocked. “Why?”
She grinned and turned to face him. “You sound just like our old friends. But it was a dream he’d had all his life. No one could talk him out of it.” She turned back to the clearing. “It took several years to get the logs ready, cutting them and treating them. He was really excited when they were in shape to use for the building.”
“It’s a fine place. You did a good job.”
She gave him an ironic, understanding smile, but he seemed serious. “Thanks.”
Staring at the cabin with Adam by her side, Micki felt a deep peace welling up inside her. An old ghost was finally being put to rest and she could feel the pressure being lifted, actually lightening her chest. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp night air and smiled. It was just the two of them now, Adam and Micki, staring at an old cabin. A nice cabin, but not the elaborate, fairy tale home she’d built up in her mind.
“He said he was doing this for me,” she explained, “but it was really Danny’s dream. To build a log cabin and fill it with furniture and rugs and everything that we’d made ourselves.”
“That’s quite a dream. How long ago did you finish?”
She smiled in amusement. “We were still working when Danny died. We were always adding things here and there. I doubt it would ever have really been done.”
“Can we go inside?” His voice was odd, as if he wasn’t sure of his welcome.
“Yes, of course.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and she could feel him beside her, tense and unyielding, but he managed to plaster a pleasant smile of appreciation on his face.
“Nice walkway,” he commented.
“I paved it myself.” She paused, remembering the rough feel of the bricks in her hand as she’d placed them, just so, in a herringbone pattern on the ground. “There were flowers here, lining the path. I planted them.” She knelt and gently parted the overgrown weeds. “They seem to have disappeared.”
“You can always replant them,” he suggested.
She looked over at him with a frown as she got up and dusted her knees. Surely he didn’t think she’d be living out here again. She started to tell him that, but the words died in her throat as she stepped up the porch to the entranceway.
Adam tried the door, jiggling the knob, but it was locked. The sound surprised her. “I forgot it would be locked. We never locked it when we lived here.” She fumbled for the spare key hidden under the eaves and handed it to Adam. “Here.”
Adam opened the door gingerly expecting rust or faulty hinges, but it swung wide as if it had been recently oiled. The moonlight shone through the windows, lighting the rapids of Decker Creek and making them gleam in the background. Micki automatically moved to the storage area to light the kerosene lanterns.
“It’s in good condition,” he remarked levelly. “You’ve been living here between contracts, then.”
“No. I haven’t been back here since Danny died.”
At his startled look, she added, “The neighbors take care of it for me. They have some grown children who live out of the area and they treat the place like a vacation
cabin, living here for several weeks a year, in exchange for keeping it up as best they can.” She smiled wryly. “Obviously, maintaining the roadway was a low priority for them.”
“So you’re keeping it as a sort of memorial to Danny, is that it?” Adam’s face was carefully controlled, but he couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.
She turned, to try and explain. “It’s just a memory now, Adam. A memory I couldn’t face, that’s all. He died so fast and I couldn’t come back here alone.” She fingered a piece of pottery. “And the longer I stayed away, the bigger the memory grew in my mind, until I couldn’t come back here at all. Do you understand?” She searched his eyes. “This place was too much to face by myself.”
“So you asked me to help you come home.” He raised an eyebrow and flashed a crooked smile. “Well, that’s something, anyway.”
“I asked you to come here with me,” she explained quietly, “because I felt, for the first time, I might be able to let these memories go.”
“Let them go?” he asked. Adam’s eyes rested on the wooden sofa, its once colorful pillows faded to a nearly uniform beige from the sun. “That would be a lot to ask.”
“It’s what I have to do now.”
He nodded without listening and began wandering around the room, moving from one item to another. “This must be your work.” Adam fingered some tapestries hung on the wall.
“That’s right,” she acknowledged. “I didn’t do a very good job, though. If you look on the back, you’ll see it’s all tangled in places it shouldn’t be.”
“And these afghans. Did you make them too?”
“Yes.” She picked up a throw from the sofa and fingered it gently. “I loved these colors. Deep rose and dusty green. It seemed so right for this place.”
“It is lovely,” he agreed. “So you crochet and knit?”
“I can do simple patterns,” she admitted. “Nothing more complicated than counting eight stitches at a time.”
He narrowed his eyes at her and let the afghan drop back into place. “It’s every bit as professionally done as the afghans we saw at the country fair.”
Game of Love Page 15
