“That’s it?” Paul was beyond the point of concealing his distress. Despite his insistence a minute ago that everything was fine, he knew Jamie wasn’t fooled. She didn’t need him to spell out that he and Leah were having problems.
This time Jamie did hesitate. “It wasn’t anything she said, exactly…”
“Yes?” he prompted.
“She sounded upset, Paul, as though she’d been crying. When I asked her about it, she laughed. But her laugh sounded more like a sob.”
Paul felt wretched. He should never have left her. If he needed time alone, he could’ve mowed the lawn, or cleaned out the garage, organized his thoughts that way. “You’re positive she didn’t give you any indication of where she was going?”
“I’m sorry, Paul, she didn’t. I don’t think she knew herself.”
That made sense to Paul. Then again it didn’t. Leah was methodical about everything she did. She didn’t often act—or react—impulsively. The realization that he’d driven her to this was like a nail through his heart.
“Thanks, Jamie, I appreciate the help.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more.”
“You’ve helped.” She’d given him something to hold on to, and Paul needed that.
“If there’s anything I can do, call me back, okay?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Anything,” she reminded him.
They spoke for a few more minutes. Jamie asked if he wanted to talk to Rich, but Paul said no. He was in a rush now, wanting to check the closet. If he could figure out what Leah had taken with her, he might be able to guess where she’d gone.
He practically raced into their bedroom, going through the closet and drawers. Whatever she’d packed, it hadn’t been much. The murder mystery that had been on the nightstand was missing. She planned to go someplace and read? That seemed odd.
As far as he could tell, there weren’t any clothes missing. Maybe a pair of jeans and a shirt, if that. She hadn’t taken her pajamas or her housecoat. Or her toothbrush.
The phone rang just then, and Paul’s heart shot into his throat. He hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the receiver, hoping to get it before the ringing woke Kelsey and the twins. They were napping, and Angie had gone home, although she’d promised to come back if he needed her.
“Hello,” he said as calmly as he could, although he doubted he was very convincing.
“Paul, it’s your father. I’m calling from Montana.”
“Dad, hello.” Why was his father contacting him? Had he heard from Leah?
“Christy had her baby. A little girl. Six pounds, seven ounces. Cute as can be. She’s got lots of dark hair.” He paused. “Your mother said she would. Christy had heart-burn real bad, and according to Elizabeth, that’s a sure sign the baby would have a lot of hair and by heaven, she does.”
“That’s wonderful, Dad. Another granddaughter.”
“They’ve decided to name her Erin Elizabeth. That has a nice sound, doesn’t it? Naturally your mother’s pleased—and that’s putting it mildly.”
“Erin Elizabeth Franklin,” Paul repeated.
“Cody’s proud as a peacock, as well. He’s been handing out cigars to everyone in town. ’Course hardly anyone smokes anymore. Even in a cowboy town like this.”
“Congratulate him and Christy for us, won’t you?”
“You bet I will,” Eric said enthusiastically. “Taylor says to tell you hello. She and Russ are going to be adding to their family again. About time if you ask me, but then no one ever does. Including your mother.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“Okay, Dad,” Paul said casually, not wanting to alert him to his troubles. “I’ll let Jason and Rich know. Do you have any idea when you and Mom will be back in Seattle?”
“Oh, I imagine we’ll be back in the next couple of weeks.”
“Drive carefully.”
“You know I will. Take care, son.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Paul replaced the receiver.
So Christy and Cody were parents now. Despite his current problems, Paul was elated for his sister and brother-in-law. He recalled his own excitement, not so long ago, when Kelsey was born. His joy had soon been dwarfed by concern for Diane, but those precious moments when he’d heard his daughter’s first cries would stay in his heart forever.
He sagged into a kitchen chair, knowing there was nothing he could do until he heard from Leah. He could fret and worry, but it wouldn’t help. He could list everything he’d done wrong, but that would only depress him further.
Paul was reviewing his conversation with Jamie when the front door opened. Feeling a surge of new hope, he moved out of the kitchen and into the living room. He stopped suddenly as Leah walked inside, suitcase in hand.
She froze when she saw him. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face so pale he wondered if she might be ill.
“Hello, Paul,” she said softly.
Thirteen
“Leah.” Paul stepped toward her, then hesitated, as though he was afraid of saying or doing something to intimidate her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. Tears filled her eyes and her throat, and she hated herself for being so weak. “What about you?”
“I’m fine…now that you’re home.”
His gaze fell to the small suitcase in her hand, and her eyes followed his. She’d forgotten about the bag and was embarrassed now that he’d seen her with it.
Packing her things had been an empty gesture. She’d been distraught, barely aware of what she was doing. All she’d taken was a murder mystery and Ryan’s yellow blankie. Maybe the five-year-old didn’t need his security blanket, but she sure did.
A book and a blanket! What did she intend to do, curl up under a tree? Spend the rest of her life in hiding?
Even more foolish had been her belief that she could leave Paul and the children, for even one night. They were her breath, her substance, everything that mattered to her.
“I went for a drive,” she said, her voice husky with emotion.
“So did I,” Paul said, his own voice so deep and rich she could listen to it forever.
“I … I thought I should get away for a while…clear my head.”
“Me, too. I did the same thing.”
Courage rose inside her and she took heart, smiling through her tears. “Did you come up with any solutions?”
Paul’s eyes held hers steadily. “The same ones that’ve been staring me in the face for months. What about you?”
“A few.”
“Do you want to talk about them?”
Leah nodded. Paul came forward and took the suitcase. “I hope you won’t be needing this.”
“No… I won’t be,” she whispered as he set it aside.
Then, taking Leah by the hand, he led her to the couch and they both sat down. A small space separated them, but the force of their attraction—no, more than that, their love—seemed to draw them together. Leah shifted closer; so did Paul.
They were silent at first, perhaps afraid of saying the wrong thing, of misunderstanding each other again. It was all Leah could do not to blurt out everything she’d learned, how much she loved Paul and the children. How peace had come to her in a cemetery, standing before her sister’s grave.
Paul spoke first. “I went to my brother’s,” he said.
“Rich?” Leah had talked to Jamie earlier. She’d tried to disguise her unhappiness and done a poor job of it.
“No, Jason. For some unknown reason, I … I found myself outside his apartment,” he said, staring down at his hands. “I’m glad I went. Jason didn’t say much, which meant I did all the talking. Whatever he was thinking, other than to defend you, he kept to himself.”
Leah smiled. She didn’t know him well, but she’d always liked Jason. He seemed like an overgrown kid, but under the baseball cap was a man with a warm, generous heart.
“So talking helped?” she prodded.
Paul’s hands reached for hers. “Yes… I realized what
a fool I’ve been.”
“We’ve both been fools.”
“When Diane died, I never expected to fall in love again,” Paul said. “I didn’t think it was possible.” He hesitated and looked at her uncertainly. “I don’t mean to hurt you by telling you this….”
“You aren’t hurting me.” She encouraged him with another smile, although emotion was clogging her throat—tears of release and relief.
“I figured a man only finds that kind of love once in his life. Then you came to live with me and the children. In the beginning I was so grateful that I assumed everything I felt for you had to do with appreciation. I owed you so much.”
“You never understood that I was the one who had reason to be grateful. It was me—”
“I still have trouble believing that,” he said, cutting her off. “You gave up your life for us.”
“No, I found it instead. If it hadn’t been for you and the children, I would’ve spent my whole life teaching the quadratic formula and attending faculty meetings. I would’ve grown old without ever knowing what it means to be in love.”
His gaze dropped, as if he had to look away in order to continue. “I don’t know if marrying you when I did was the right thing. I was attracted to you. I suspect I was afraid of losing you to Rob Mullins.”
“Rob.” Leah gave a short laugh. Paul had no idea how much she’d come to dislike her colleague and friend. Former friend. Their last evening together had been a disaster. Rob had tried to pressure her into confessing a sexual relationship with Paul. It seemed beyond his comprehension that the two of them could be living together without sex.
Leah had been insulted and infuriated. She was attracted to Paul and had been for weeks. They’d experienced that one explosive kiss and both had worked hard to avoid repeating it. They’d been constantly aware of each other’s proximity. They’d fought their sexual attraction every moment they were together. Some days the tension had seemed intolerable.
So Rob’s innuendos had struck a raw nerve. Leah had barely made it through the evening. The poetry reading was nearly two hours north of Seattle, and she’d hardly spoken a word on the long drive back. Rob had tried to fill the silence with questions and snatches of conversation, but she’d met his attempts with one-word replies.
He’d grown impatient with her, and by the time they’d reached Paul’s house, he was angry and demanding. Leah had jumped out of his car, said she didn’t plan to see him ever again and escaped inside before he could argue or delay her. She hadn’t heard from him since, for which she was grateful.
“I was jealous of Rob,” Paul was saying. “And I hated myself for it—because it made me aware of several things I wasn’t ready to face. First and foremost, I was feeling again.
“For months my emotions had been numb. I was desensitized. There were times I laughed, but I was never happy. There were times I looked forward to another day, but I wasn’t whole. I wasn’t at peace with myself. Six months after Diane’s death I was still clinging to her, deathly afraid of what would happen if I ever let her go.”
“When your parents suggested we get married, I was stunned.” Leah had her own confession to make. “I didn’t think you’d want to marry anyone like me….”
“Why not?”
All the old doubts and fears had come back to plague her. All the insecurities of her youth. “I’m not… Diane.”
“No, you’re Leah. Warm, beautiful, gentle Leah.”
Leah didn’t feel she’d possessed any of those qualities until she’d fallen in love with Paul. “I was afraid.”
“But why?” Paul wanted to know, looking bewildered.
“I was convinced that sometime down the road, a year from now, or maybe sooner, you’d wake up and realize you were saddled with me and—”
“Saddled with you? Leah—”
“Please, listen.” She couldn’t allow him to distract her, to keep her from addressing her fears. “I’m not beautiful. I’ve known it all my life, and I’ve accepted it.” She paused when it looked as though Paul was going to protest again. Pressing her fingers to his lips, she continued, “I don’t have a gregarious personality. Or Diane’s charm and sense of humor. But I couldn’t change who I am, not even to please you. When I agreed to marry you, I did so for purely selfish reasons.”
“Leah—”
Once more she stopped him. “I did so because I couldn’t bear to leave the children and because…because I was falling in love with you, and it scared me to death. I finally had a chance of finding what had always escaped me. A husband, a family, people who loved me, and I grabbed it with both hands.”
“Our marriage was unfair to you.”
“Don’t you understand?” she cried. “I was taking advantage of you. I knew the time would come when you’d regret marrying me, yet I went ahead with it anyway.”
“Leah, I’m never going to regret marrying you.”
“Maybe you should.”
“No.” He got to his feet and walked to the window, gazing out. “Because, you see, Leah, I discovered I loved you as deeply and profoundly as I’ve ever loved anyone in my life.”
“And I … I discovered love through you and the children.” Leah’s voice was tranquil. Thoughtful. “I discovered what it is and what it means.”
Paul turned toward her. “I expected to feel guilty for loving you and I fulfilled that prophecy. Only, to my surprise, I had to force myself to feel the guilt. Anytime I examined my feelings for you, I realized loving you was what Diane would’ve wanted. But I couldn’t admit it, because that would mean letting Diane go, and I wasn’t ready to do that.
“I was caught between the two of you. Trapped between the past and the present. The more time I spent with you, the dimmer my vision of Diane became, and that frightened me. Yet I couldn’t make myself stop loving you.” He looked away from her again.
“Until you thought I might be pregnant… Then you couldn’t bear to touch me.” Leah lowered her eyes because the pain was still there.
“No!” Paul covered the distance between them in three strides. He sat next to her and took her hands in his. “It wasn’t that, Leah. It wasn’t anything like that. I’ve never known a greater fear than when you told me you might be pregnant. The thought of losing you terrified me. I think I went a little crazy.”
He leaned his forehead against hers, and his voice grew rougher. “It was when you thought you might be pregnant that I understood how much I loved you.”
Paul’s arms came around her then. “I was confronted with my greatest fear. Losing the woman I loved. Now, looking back, I realize how badly I behaved, how much my attitude hurt you. I’m sorry for that, sorrier than you’ll ever know.”
“You were so angry.”
“But never with you. If I blamed anyone, it was myself. At the same time, I recognized how much I loved you—and how much I loved Diane. I didn’t know it was possible to love two women so deeply—and then it came to me—I didn’t.”
Was this what he’d realized when he talked to his brother? Leah wondered. Her heart started to pound louder and louder.
“Friday night…”
She pulled her hands free from his and lowered her eyes. Their lovemaking the night before had moved her in a way that went beyond sensual excitement or gratification. Paul had held her in his arms afterward, teased her, laughed with her. He’d made her feel more wanted and loved in one evening than she’d felt in her entire life. She’d gone to sleep content, basking in the joy she’d experienced. A joy that exceeded anything she’d ever hoped to feel.
Then she’d woken to the sound of another woman’s name on her husband’s lips.
“That night,” Paul continued, “was indescribable. Yes, the lovemaking was great, but it always is. You went to sleep in my arms, and as I lay there I realized what was different, what had changed.” He tucked his finger under her chin and raised her face until her eyes locked with his. “On Friday night I released Diane. I let go of her and stepped out of yester
day and into today, tomorrow—my life with you.”
“But…you called me Diane.”
“I had a dream,” Paul said, his words heavy with regret. “I can’t explain it, but…in my dream Diane was there. I can’t remember exactly what happened, just bits and pieces of it.”
Breathless, Leah stared at him.
“Jason thinks my subconscious had something to do with it,” he went on. “He thinks Diane was releasing me, too. I don’t know if any of this makes sense to you. But I’m at peace with her death, at peace with myself. It didn’t come easy, but…” He seemed to be waiting for a reaction from her.
“Diane came to me in a dream once, too,” Leah said in a whisper. It was the first time she’d ever told anyone about that experience. “It was the night she died. I was exhausted and I was sure my mind was playing tricks on me. She looked so happy. I couldn’t understand it. She was standing under a tree with wildflowers all around her.”
“What kind of flowers?”
His question seemed odd to Leah. “I’m not sure, except she was holding a—”
“A daisy.”
“Yes.” Her eyes widened with surprise. “How’d you know?”
“In my dream she stood under a tree. I remember that much now. She seemed so happy, plucking the petals from a yellow daisy.”
“Yes!” Leah flattened her hand over her heart. “Yes,” she repeated. “There was a light, too.”
“A brilliant light.”
Leah nodded again.
“What did she say?” Paul asked her.
“She told me she was going away. I tried to argue with her, tried to make her stay, but she didn’t have time to listen to me. She said she’d had to get us away from the hospital because we were holding her back. And then…then she explained that she hadn’t wanted to go away in the beginning, but had come to understand it would be all right to leave. She…she asked me if I’d take her place.”
“Take her place?”
Leah nodded. “I didn’t understand what she meant, but I didn’t question her, either. She looked right at me. I’d never been able to refuse Diane anything, so I promised her I would.”