by Marta Perry
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Wanda looked up at her entrance, smiled, and waved her toward the inner office door.
Anne tapped, then opened the door. Mitch stood at the desk, head bent, just hanging up the phone. Her heart gave a little jump at the sight of him. For an instant thoughts of her reason for being there slipped away, and she was back in his arms again the night before, knowing she loved him.
No. She couldn’t let herself think about that, not now. Not when she had to tell him something that would hurt him so badly.
“Anne.”
She half expected him to round the desk toward her, but he didn’t. “I have some news,” she said, then stopped. This was so difficult, but she had to do it. She’d tried handling everything on her own, and it hadn’t worked. Surely she and Mitch had come far enough to deal with this together.
“What is it?” He did come around the desk then, reaching toward her as if expecting the worst.
“Marcy Brown called.” There wasn’t any way to say this but to get it out. “She knew about Tina’s pregnancy. Knew who the father was.” She swallowed hard. “She even knew why Tina named you.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at her from under lowered brows, his face expressionless. The mask was back in full force, as if he needed its protection.
“She said...” She took a steadying breath. “She said it was Link.”
There, it was out. Mitch would be shocked, denying it, but...
But he wasn’t. He just stood there, looking at her, and she read the knowledge in his face.
“You already knew.” The words were out before she thought about them. He knew.
Pain gripped her. All this time she’d been desperate to find the truth, all this time...
“How could you do this?” The blood pounded in her head. Later she’d need to weep, but not now. Now she had to react to this betrayal.
“Anne, it’s not what you think.”
“You knew how important this is. How could you lie to me?” Maybe she wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears until later. They stung her eyes, salty and bitter.
“I didn’t!”
Her heart turned to stone. “You knew. You didn’t tell me. What is that but a lie?”
He reached out to her, as if to touch her, and she recoiled. He let his hand drop, eyes darkening.
“I didn’t know, not until today. You can’t believe I’ve been lying to you all along—”
“When today?” It was like being back in a courtroom, but she’d never tried a case that held so much personal anguish for her.
He stiffened. “This morning. Link told me the truth this morning.”
“And you kept it from me.” Her head throbbed. “How long were you going to keep it from me, Mitch? Until after he was gone again? Until he wasn’t here in Bedford Creek to embarrass you?”
“No! That’s not why I didn’t tell you. Anne, you have to believe me. I only wanted—”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong. I don’t have to believe you.” She could barely breathe against the heartache. “I was wrong ever to trust you. It’s a mistake I won’t make again.”
* * *
Mitch stared at the door that had closed behind Anne—that closed on any chance he might have to make things right.
He could go after her, but what would he say? I was wrong? She knew that already, and nothing he could say would make it any different.
He’d ruined everything with his black stubbornness. If he’d gone to her with the truth right away, maybe there would have been some small chance to make things right. Now there was none.
He’d told himself he was trying to spare her, to delay telling her until he could find Link and try to repair the damage. But maybe she was right. Maybe he was really trying to spare himself.
He hadn’t fixed anything. He’d lost his brother and he’d lost Anne, and this was one thing he couldn’t blame on his father. This one was all his fault.
One way or another, he had to find Link. Getting Link to cooperate wouldn’t change things between himself and Anne. How could it? But at least it would make things right for her and Emilie. That was all he could expect.
Getting Link’s signature was the only thing left Mitch could do for Anne, and he wasn’t going to fail.
But two hours later the possibility of failure loomed a lot larger. He drove down River Street one more time. He’d tried every friend of Link’s he could remember, tried every place his brother might be staying. He met nothing but blank looks. No one had seen his brother since the day before.
He seemed to be out of options. His stomach twisted. He’d have to see Anne, let her know what he was trying to do. She wouldn’t want to see him, but he had to tell her he wouldn’t give up until he had Link ready to sign.
He stopped in front of Kate’s place, took the steps two at a time. He rapped on the door.
Kate swung it open and looked at him, her gaze a little startled. “Mitch. Is something wrong?”
“I need to see Anne. Will you let her know I’m here?”
But Kate was shaking her head. “I can’t do that.”
“What do you mean?” He could sense bad news coming, see it in the way her gaze slid away from his.
“Anne’s gone.” Kate gave a helpless little gesture. “I couldn’t talk her out of it. She took the baby and went back to Philadelphia.”
* * *
The road snaked ahead of Anne, glistening a little in the gray afternoon light. The cold, light rain slicked the pavement, and she slowed as she started up the steep hill. Maybe if she kept her mind on the road conditions, she could keep the pain at bay a little longer.
It didn’t seem to be working. Her breath caught on a little sob.
Mitch, how could you do this? How could you betray me this way?
Emilie wiggled in her car seat, just beginning to fuss. She hadn’t been happy to be packed up so abruptly. And Kate... Kate hadn’t understood at all, but Anne hadn’t been able to explain her sudden need to leave.
She still couldn’t, not even to herself. She’d just known she had to get away from Bedford Creek, away from Mitch.
“Hush, Emilie. It’ll be all right. We’ll be home soon.”
That was what she needed to hear someone say to her. It will be all right. But there was no one to do that.
Why, Lord? she prayed bleakly. Why did You let me begin to trust, begin to care, only to face betrayal?
She could have handled the fact that Link was Emilie’s father. She could even understand Tina’s convoluted reasoning in naming Mitch as the father.
Tina had thought Mitch was everything Link wasn’t—solid, responsible, trustworthy. She’d probably thought she could count on Mitch to do the right thing.
Anger pulsed through her; she tightened her grip on the wheel. She’d thought that, too. And they’d both been wrong. He’d chosen to protect his brother instead of her and Emilie.
What would Link do? Her throat tightened. She should have stayed, tried to see him, tried to get his signature on the forms. That was why she’d come to Bedford Creek in the first place.
But she wasn’t the person she’d been then. That Anne Morden would have put on her lawyer’s armor and faced down both the Donovan brothers. Now she’d started to care too much, and she couldn’t do it, not without letting Mitch see exactly how much he’d hurt her.
So she’d go home. She’d go back to Philadelphia, hire a private investigator, put the whole thing in professional hands.
Emilie’s cry went up an octave, and Anne winced. She turned her head to take a look, and felt the car swerve. Her fingers tightened on the wheel. She must be more tired than she’d thought. She couldn’t—
The car swerved again, sliding across the road, and she fought the steering wheel. It wasn’t her—it was the rain. She touc
hed the brake, barely tapping it. If she could just get onto the gravel berm, they’d be all right.
The car swung across the road, out of control. Her stomach turned over. She clenched the wheel, jerking it, but it was no good—she’d lost control entirely. They careened sideways, nothing between them and the steep drop-off but a narrow gravel stretch and a ditch.
She couldn’t stop. Her mind flashed ahead to an image of her car sliding off the mountain, tumbling down the steep slope, plunging into the trees below.
Help us, Father! Help us!
Seconds became an eternity...spinning trees, whirling lights, frantic prayers. And then the car slid gently to rest against the opposite bank.
The sobs she heard were hers. Emilie’s crying had stopped, maybe out of her amazement at the ride. Anne twisted in the seat, touching the baby with frantic hands.
“Are you all right? Emilie, are you okay?”
Emilie batted at her hands, then stretched, twisting irritably in the car seat.
She was all right. Anne leaned her forehead against the seat back. The baby was all right. They were both all right, no thanks to her.
“Thank you, Lord.” She patted Emilie, then wiped away the hot tears that spilled down her cheeks. “Thank you.”
I wasn’t in control. But You were.
She turned, leaning back in the seat, relief flooding her. God had been in control. Even though she hadn’t trusted, even though she’d been trying to do it all herself, God had been in control.
“I haven’t been trusting You, have I?”
Helen would probably smile at the question. Wise Helen had seen what Anne needed. Believing wasn’t enough. She had to trust, too.
She brushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’ll try, Lord. I’ll try.”
She couldn’t have a relationship with God unless she could trust. She couldn’t have a relationship with another person unless she could trust.
She looked back over the last twenty-four hours. She’d told herself she loved Mitch, but she hadn’t trusted him enough to give him a chance to explain. Maybe things could never be right between them; maybe there were too many barriers. But whatever happened, she couldn’t run away. She had to give him a chance.
Something else was crystal clear in her mind. Unless Mitch could open up, unless he could find a way to deal with the family problems that haunted him, they didn’t stand a chance.
Her heart turned to lead. Dealing with that pain might be more than Mitch was able to do. But she’d learned something in these difficult weeks. Having a relationship built on trust, based on openness, really was possible.
She’d never believed that before, but now she knew it. And she couldn’t settle for less.
Slowly, carefully, she put the car in gear and started back toward Bedford Creek.
Chapter 16
“Look, just stay by the phone for me, okay?” Mitch frowned at Wanda. “I’ve asked half the town to call me if they spot Link. Someone’s bound to see him.”
“All right, all right.” Wanda dropped the purse she’d picked up, preparing to going home. “But you owe me for this one.”
He owed a lot of people—Anne most of all. But she was gone. He looked bleakly down the years he would be missing her. Why couldn’t she have given him a few minutes’ grace? That was all he’d wanted. Now—
He heard the door, spun around, and his breath caught in his throat. Anne stood there, holding the baby. He’d never seen a sweeter sight in his life.
She was pale, and she clutched Emilie too tightly. The baby wiggled restlessly.
“What’s wrong?” He took a step toward her, battling pain, grief, regret. Something was wrong besides the obvious, but whatever it was, she probably wouldn’t accept help from him. The only thing he had left to offer her was Link’s signature on that form.
She shook her head. “Nothing. We’re all right. We just... I decided we needed to come back.”
“I’m glad you did.” Easy, don’t push. “I’m trying to find Link, so I can—”
The telephone rang, and he nearly leaped across the desk. Wanda said a few words, then hung up and turned to him. He could read the message on her face. Someone had spotted Link.
“Behind Grace Church. His truck’s parked there.”
Adrenaline pumped through his veins. Something positive to do, thank heaven. He turned to Anne.
“You wait here with Wanda. I’ll find Link and bring him back.”
But she was already shaking her head. “We’ll go with you.”
The last thing he wanted was Anne observing an ugly scene. “That’s not a good idea. I’ll do better with him alone.”
“I’m going.” Her mouth set stubbornly, she turned toward the door.
“Anne...”
Frustrated, he shook his head. He didn’t want her there when he confronted his brother. But it didn’t look as if he had a choice.
* * *
If he’d picked the worst place in the world to confront his brother, this would be it, Mitch thought as he pulled up to Grace Church Cemetery. His throat tightened. Link was on one knee in front of a double headstone, carefully clearing away the dried leaves that littered it. He looked very young, kneeling there in the brown grass in front of their parents’ graves.
Mitch and Anne’s footsteps grated on a patch of gravel. Link swung around, his face hardening when he saw them. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” Mitch stared down at his parents’ headstone. “Guess I should have thought sooner to look here.”
“Why would you?” Link stood, fists clenching. “Not a place you spend much time, is it?”
“I guess not.” He stared down at the epitaph. At his father’s name. His father hadn’t come back until it was too late to say the things that needed to be said between them. Maybe he could keep from making the same mistake with Link. “Look, we need to talk.”
Link shrugged, his face cold. “I’ve got nothing to say.”
“Fine, just listen, then.” He couldn’t let himself think about Anne, standing so silently beside him.
“Sorry, don’t have time.” Link spun, but Mitch grabbed his arm.
“Make time, Link. This is important.”
“To you?” His expression made it clear that didn’t weigh with him.
“To this baby girl.” He jerked his head toward Emilie, his eyes never leaving Link’s face. “She deserves a chance in life.”
Link’s gaze swiveled to Anne and the pink snowsuited bundle she carried. “Tina’s baby.” Link said it with certainty.
“That’s right. How did you know?”
He shrugged. “Wasn’t hard to figure out, once I knew part of it. Why else would Anne and the baby be in Bedford Creek?”
“Listen to me, Link.” His throat was so tight that he had to force the words out. “When Tina knew she wasn’t going to make it, she wanted Anne to adopt her baby. She wanted to give her a chance at a good future.”
“Okay, I’m giving her that chance, too.” Link’s gaze slid away from the baby. “I’m getting out of here. That’s the best thing I can do for her.” He nodded toward the headstone. “After all, that’s what he did for us. Like father, like son, right? He just should have done it sooner.”
The bitterness in his brother’s voice seeped into Mitch’s heart. He was used to it in himself. He’d never guessed it ran so deeply in Link. He felt a sudden revulsion. It wasn’t doing either one of them any good.
“Don’t, Link. Don’t think that about yourself.”
“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?”
Conviction pounded through his veins. He knew, now, what he had to do. What they both had to do, if only it wasn’t too late.
“What he did doesn’t matter anymore. At least, it only matters if we let it.” He reached toward his brother. “Don’t
you see what we’re doing? We’re still letting him control our lives.”
“Not you. Not Mr. Upright Citizen. Your life is as different as it can be from his.”
“Don’t you get it?” Mitch caught his brother’s arm. He had to make him see. “I’m doing everything I can to be different from him. You’re doing everything you can to be like him. That means we’re both still letting him run our lives.”
For a moment Link stared at him, dark eyes unreadable. “Yeah, well, there’s not much we can do about that, is there?”
“We can stop.” The conviction settled into his soul, so strong he didn’t even mind the fact that Anne was hearing all of this. “We can forgive him.”
He hadn’t known it was true until he’d said it. A sense of release slid through him. All this time, trying to be the opposite of everything his father stood for, he’d still been holding on to his resentment. Letting it control his life.
Link jerked free of him. “I can’t!” A shadow crossed his face. “And what difference would it make if I could? He’s gone.”
“It won’t make a difference to him. Just to us.”
He put his hand on Link’s shoulder, feeling his brother tense at his touch. It drove a knife through his heart. He never should have let things get so bad between them. Link was the only family he had in the world, probably the only family he ever would have.
They stood side by side, looking down at their parents’ graves. “Let it go, Link. Let them go.”
“Not what you’d call a perfect set of parents, were they?” Bitterness still laced Link’s words.
“No, I guess they weren’t. But that doesn’t mean we have to repeat their mistakes.” His hand tightened on his brother’s shoulder. “I haven’t exactly been a perfect big brother, either. Maybe I can do better, if you give me a shot at it.”
Mitch felt the tension begin to seep out of Link. “So...if I were trying to do better than they did...” He choked, but went on. “What would I do about this baby?”
That one Mitch knew the answer to. “Sign the papers so Anne can adopt.” He looked at her, seeing the way she cradled the baby close, as if defying anyone to take her away. “Nobody could possibly be a better parent to that little girl than she will be.”
