Lost and Found Groom

by McLinn, Patricia

  “Hi. C’mon in.” Ellyn smiled as she came around the corner. “I dropped by to lend Kendra a purse. She’s about ready for you.”

  “No, Ellyn,” came Kendra’s voice from deeper in the house. “Daniel’s not here for–”

  “You must have misunderstood, Ellyn,” he said, breaking into Kendra’s explanations. “I’m here for Matthew, not Kendra. She–” He broke off as Kendra came around the corner into the kitchen area. The dress was a muted, rich red of some material that had no fancy touches at all, and didn’t need them because it seemed to cling to her body. It had a plain V-neck that allowed a glimpse of the creamy curves that lay below. He knew the taste and texture and scent of those curves, and his body immediately ached with the longing to know them again. “–must have another date.”

  “It’s not a . . .” Her words trailed off as she met his eyes. For a moment they just looked at each other. A flare of some sort of recognition crossed her eyes, recognition of the assumption he’d made, but also a recognition of something deeper. Maybe of the emotions that had pushed him to that assumption. Recognition of how he felt about her. At least of the part of how he felt about her that he understood.

  She picked up her purse and keys from the end of the counter only to put them down again.

  “I’m working. I’m covering the country club honors–the cocktail reception, then the awards banquet.”

  Working.

  She was going to this dinner as an assignment. Not on the arm of some sleek country club member who had a hell of a lot more to offer than a guy with a complicated past and uncertain future.

  Trying hard to stifle a grin, Daniel informed Ellyn, “And I’m being trusted for the first time with Matthew on my own.”

  “Sorry. Guess I jumped to a conclusion,” Ellyn said lightly. Then she added with a look from her friend to him and back that might have been sly in someone less open, “I’m also sorry you’re working, Kendra. That’s a definite waste of that dress. Guess I better get going. Hope the banquet’s not too boring, Kendra. And I hope you and Matthew fare okay, Daniel.”

  “I’m sure we will. Thought I’d try taking him to his first movie. The library’s showing ‘The Wizard of Oz’ as a fund-raiser.”

  “Hey, maybe we’ll see you there–in fact, it’ll be hard to miss you in the library’s little auditorium. Meg won free tickets and we’re going, too. That’s why I have to get home and feed them.”

  “Don’t let Matthew eat too much junk at the movie, Daniel, and he needs to be home in bed by eight-thirty. And don’t let him get too excited or he’ll never sleep.”

  “I already signed in blood agreeing to all that, Kendra.” He pulled out the typed instructions she’d handed him yesterday at the co-op. Two pages, single-spaced with enough phone numbers to start a book. “Why don’t you go on, and quit worrying.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Kendra toed off her shoes as soon as she’d walked in the back door, and yawned as she hung her coat on the peg.

  The banquet hadn’t held a single surprise. Except for maybe how friendly people were to her–she still got caught off guard sometimes that people here wanted coverage, unlike the subjects of most of her TV reports. But then, these stories were a far cry from investigative journalism.

  Driving up to the house, she’d realized Daniel hadn’t brought Matthew home yet, even though it was nearly nine-thirty. The only lights on were the living room lamp operated by a timer and the outside light by the back door. Besides, Daniel’s car wasn’t here.

  Darn him. Matthew would be overtired–so tired he’d be difficult to get to sleep, and miserable tomorrow.

  She should have expected Daniel to be this foolhardy, this unreliable.

  She slipped her key ring in her dress pocket. That’s when she noticed the light blinking on her answering machine. She punched it – fast–before her imagination could conjure more than the bare outlines of accidents, diseases or other traumas.

  It was Marti. Excited. No trauma, but lots and lots of excitement about materials she’d found in an old trunk on the Susland ancestors. Expelling a pent up breath, Kendra barely listened once she took in the fact that it wasn’t about any of the phantom traumas she had feared for Matthew and Daniel.

  As she started unbuttoning the back of her dress, working her way from the collar down to below the waist, she punched the button to repeat the message–this time listening closely enough that she wouldn’t be lost when Marti mentioned it at their next session for the supplement.

  She’d found a diary by Charles Susland’s white wife. It told about his last meeting with Leaping Star. And it gave the details about the origins of the Susland legend–the Susland curse. She shivered slightly, hearing Ellyn’s whisper once more.

  You turn away from your children, so your blood will be alone.

  Kendra shook her head at herself.

  What had gotten into her lately? First imagining horrors had overtaken Matthew and Daniel all because of a blinking light on her answering machine. And then getting lost in the campfire-ghost-story atmosphere of that silly legend.

  But where were Matthew and Daniel? If he’d lived up to his promise to have their son home and in bed by now, she wouldn’t be worried about the two of them, no matter what was on the answering machine.

  As she slipped the last button free, allowing the dress to fall forward, caught only by her arms still in the sleeves, her mind snagged on one phrase.

  She’d feared for Matthew and Daniel.

  Could she tell herself she felt simply the concern of one human being for another? Or for the father of her son?

  Leaving the dim kitchen, she blinked against the light from the floor lamp by the sofa, unbuttoning the dress cuffs by feel, her movements dropping the already low neckline well past decent.

  “You’ve been living alone too long, Kendra.”

  Daniel’s low, slightly roughened voice came from the darkness beyond the lamp.

  “Daniel! What on earth! I thought you weren’t here. Matthew–?”

  “Is in bed. Asleep. Like you instructed.”

  “But–your car? Your car isn’t here.”

  “It wouldn’t start at the library. I got it towed. Ellyn gave us a ride.”

  She squinted into the darkness. Car trouble could explain the tension in his voice.

  “But how will you get home–I mean to your place? I can’t drive you. If I wake Matthew up to take him with I’ll never get him down again, and I won’t leave him here alone, so–”

  He stood, coming toward her. “Maybe I won’t want to leave. Not after this striptease.”

  “Striptease? Wha-?” She looked down at the dress’s V dipping nearly to her waist, clasped the loose material as best she could to her throat and turned her back. “I . . . I didn’t know anyone was here.”

  “As I said, you’ve been living alone too long.” His warm voice, both teasing and tempting, came from right over her shoulder. “And if that’s how you come in every night, it’s a damned shame to waste it on a two-year-old who’s already asleep.”

  The whisper of his touch against her back left a trail of shivers that expanded, deepened.

  “Daniel . . . Don’t.”

  But she didn’t move when she felt his lips touch the back of her bare shoulder.

  “Your skin was this soft three years ago, Kendra. But I could never see . . .”

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him rest against the corner of the sofa arm. His hands at her hips were a gentle, persistent force that prompted one step back, then a second, so she stood between his knees. She felt his hands dip into the opening of her dress, then the heated touch against her skin as he ran his palms up to her shoulder blades, below the flare of her hips, and back again.

  She should move away. She should leave. She should . . .

  “Daniel, this isn’t a good–”

  “It’s good, Kendra. It’s so good.” His lips against her skin at the point of her shoulder blade added a new heat.

/>   She clutched the material of her dress in both fists against her collarbone, while he made love to her back.

  Each cell seemed to have a separate nerve ending, each communicating pleasure and urgency for more. The inside of his thighs pressing against the outside of hers, squeezed gently, encasing her. Snugly drawn against his crotch, she could feel the insistence of his reaction . . . and her own.

  He unhooked her bra, the skin once covered by the strap soaked in the sensation as his unimpeded stroke started at her nape and slowly traveled down her backbone, lower and lower until his hands dipped inside the waist of her panties, his fingers gliding over the swell of her buttocks.

  She gasped and half sagged against him.

  His hands rose again, sliding up either side of the valley of her spine, under the parted fabric of her bra. Then to each side, under her arms, his fingers light across the swell of her breasts, then farther.

  “Daniel, I’m not . . . I’ve been pregnant, had a baby–oh!”

  His hands covered her breasts, the touch possessive for all its gentleness. He cupped her, using his thumbs and forefingers to bring her nipples to aching, hardened awareness.

  “I wish I could have touched you when you carried our son. To feel you rounding with our baby . . . .” Where she pressed against his lap she felt the hot leap of his flesh, and couldn’t stop her hips from rocking back against him. “I wish I could have made love to you then.”

  His mouth pressed hot and wet against the base of her neck. Her knees threatened to buckle.

  If she was going to gather herself together–her wits and her body–this was the moment. Right now. This instant. Before it was too late. Much, much too late.

  “I have to. . .Daniel, I have to ask you something. You promised . . . answers.”

  “Ask.” His voice was muffled against her flesh.

  “Why did you come after me?”

  “I told you – Matthew–”

  She cut him off. “I understand why after you knew about Matthew–your determination that he would have family, stability. But you didn’t know about Matthew until you looked for me.” His hands stilled. “Why did you start? Did you search out all Paulo’s one-night stands?”

  The withdrawal of his hands from her skin exposed its heated surface to a rush of chilled air.

  “Don’t dismiss it that way, Kendra.” His voice was harsh.

  “Why? I’m sure Paulo was no monk. And Taumaturgio surely wasn’t. Even Tompkins for that matter. What was different?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He’d jerked out the words, with no attempt to make them believable. A lie. And not even a good lie.

  She’d always heard about the power of truth. Now she knew the power of a lie. It had the strength she didn’t have. The strength to make her straighten away from him. The strength to tug her dress up. The strength to turn and face him, now covered from throat to knees.

  “You should leave, Daniel.”

  “It scares you, doesn’t it, Kendra?”

  “I’m not scared of you.”

  “Not me. At least not me alone. Us. What happens between us. Because it reminds you of Santa Estella? Because it reminds you of when you let yourself really feel? Or because you don’t want to feel that for me?”

  It did scare her. At one level she understood that. But understanding didn’t stop the fear, and it didn’t stop the response.

  “Which you? Which one of your characters do you think I’m feeling something for?”

  He stood abruptly, jostling her.

  “I’m taking your car. I’ll return it in the morning.”

  The change in him, so fast, so complete, disoriented her. “My car? But–”

  “Don’t worry. I have the key.” His mouth twisted as he held up the ring that she’d dropped into her pocket earlier. He kept one key and tossed the rest toward her. She caught them automatically, then had to grab at her dress again to keep it from falling. “Remember me? The pickpocket? I’m sure it doesn’t surprise you that I haven’t lost those skills.”

  *

  Why had he done that?

  Lying in bed, wishing sleep would stop the thinking, that’s the question Kendra focused on. It was much better than thinking about what had happened between them. Or what would have happened if she’d let things continue.

  Why had he picked her pocket?

  To prove–to himself or her?–he didn’t need to rely on her, the way he had the night he’d returned from back East?

  Was that why he’d lied in answer to her question?

  I don’t know.

  If he’d tried, he probably could have fooled her. He certainly had before, as Tompkins and Paulo. So why had this lie been so unconvincing? Because she knew him better now?

  I don’t know.

  She’d known it as a lie immediately. So that meant he did know. But maybe he didn’t want to know. Maybe he didn’t lie well this time because he was lying to himself most of all.

  Why?

  I don’t know.

  *

  Damn her questions.

  She poked and probed until he felt like he’d been turned inside out. And, dammit, he had no answers. Not the neat kind she wanted.

  Daniel leaned against the chain link fence that separated the parking area from the pair of runways boasted by Far Hills Airport. If he’d had his own plane, he’d have gone up and seen eye to eye with the huge, clear Wyoming sky. Instead, he had to settle for the familiar, lingering scents of fuel and flight.

  Maybe Kendra had connected with Paulo during the hurricane because she couldn’t hold Paulo at a distance with her battery of questions. Not speaking the same language had definite advantages.

  Why had he come after her? Why three years after he’d left her at the consulate gate had finding her been his first thought when the door had been closed and locked behind his ever returning to Taumaturgio?

  Damned if he knew.

  And Kendra hadn’t expected him to have an answer. She’d used the question to drive a wedge between them. To stop the feeling between them.

  His body tightened in memory of that specific feeling.

  She’d try to back away now. He’d bet every penny on that.

  Go ahead and try, Kendra Jenner, he thought grimly.

  He’d be damned if he’d let that happen. Not her backing away, not her trying to keep Matthew away from him, not even himself easing away.

  Yeah, himself.

  It had been a long time since he’d felt the nervousness he’d experienced tonight when he’d realized Matthew was completely and solely in his care. On second thought, he’d never felt the terror that hit him so unexpectedly when he’d glanced in the rear view mirror halfway into town and seen Matthew’s expression of utter confidence that nothing could hurt him. Which meant he–Daniel Delligatti–was responsible that nothing did hurt Matthew.

  The situation had gotten worse when they had passed by the Community Church and Matthew started fussing. It occurred to Daniel then that Matthew’s equanimity had stemmed from a belief they were heading for the familiar babysitting co-op. It had a two-year-old kind of logic, since the co-op was where Matthew most often saw him. It also explained a couple of the words Daniel had understood in Matthew’s prattling–Emily, Jason and Fran.

  Not even a burger and fries (and the amazing mess they could make in the hands of a master) had ameliorated Matthew’s cranky suspiciousness at not encountering those expected faces, though the cooing attentions of the teenage waitress had helped some. By the time they’d reached the library for the movie, Daniel had been sorely tempted to hand Matthew over to Ellyn and bolt.

  But the time with Ellyn and Meg Sinclair–and Matthew’s fascination with Toto–seemed to restore some of his son’s faith in the world, if not in Daniel. Matthew had some justification for his wariness. Not only couldn’t Daniel get his car started, but transferring the damned child seat from his car to Ellyn’s had been a fiasco.

  Matthew’s improved mood last
ed until the moment Ellyn dropped them off at Kendra’s house and he realized his mother wasn’t there.

  The military ought to check into distraught two-year-olds as a secret weapon. If the heart-rending pathos of flooding tears and pitiful cries for “Mommy, Mommy” didn’t bring a man to his knees, the sheer volume would. Add on the bruises and frustrations of trying to get a squirming body with the power of a pro wrestler packed first into a clean diaper and then into a diabolical contraption called a sleeper, and it could break the toughest man.

  Kendra might have thought Daniel had been lying in wait for her, but in fact he’d collapsed on the sofa and fallen asleep.

  Between mother and child, it had not been Daniel’s finest hour, or evening.

  He pushed off from the fence. That wasn’t going to stop him. Not from spending time alone with his son. Not from pursuing his son’s mother.

  *

  The next afternoon an assignment for the Banner took Kendra to Sheridan. She stopped in a drug store for aspirin to fight a raging headache. She’d had it when she woke up. Finding her car keys on the counter and her car parked neatly by the back door hadn’t helped.

  He had to have been in her house to return the keys and he had to have been up before dawn to get her car back. On a Sunday morning, where’d he find a ride? Or had he walked back to wherever he lived now? What if he couldn’t get his car fixed? Or–

  No. None of that was her concern.

  Aspirin in hand, she turned and came face to face with a display of condoms.

  She would never need them. Certainly not with Daniel–that would be crazy. And, at the rate she was going, not with any man.

  On the other hand, history showed that when she had needed them, she hadn’t had them. From a practical standpoint . . .

  Without regard for the finer points, she grabbed a packet.

  *

  If Daniel had had any thought of keeping where he and Matthew had spent Tuesday afternoon a secret from Kendra, their son’s new word ended that idea immediately.

  “Plane! Mommy, plane!”

  Matthew started in as soon as Daniel freed him from the car seat and he came barreling toward where she stood outside the back door with the binoculars she’d been using to scan the mountainside.