Just Married

  In the darkness, when her heart felt as if it would burst with grief, Zane came to her. She didn’t see him. Not with her eyes. She felt his presence as keenly as if he were standing next to her. The scent of him was everywhere. He was close, so close, she felt his fingers lightly trail down the side of her face.

  His love for her and their child filled the room, adding a glow that couldn’t be attributed to any light. The words weren’t spoken aloud, but she heard them as clearly as if they had been verbalized.

  He told her how sorry he was. How desperately he’d wanted to live so he could come back to her and their daughter. He asked her to find it in her heart to forgive him for ever having left her.

  Then soon, so much sooner than she wanted, Zane was gone. He left before he could answer her questions, before she could say all the things that crowded her heart.

  Suddenly, without warning, the room grew cold and dark once again.

  Lesley curled into a tight ball, wrapping his love around her and their baby as tightly as she could, and waited.

  Twenty-eight hours later Carl arrived with Candy Hoffman to tell her what she already knew. Both seemed surprised by how well Lesley received the news that Zane was gone.

  How gentle Carl had been. His and Candy’s tender concern touched her heart. Lesley was grateful for the way Candy sat by her side and held her hand. But it was Candy Hoffman who wept, not Lesley. It was Candy who asked a long list of questions. Candy who demanded answers.

  Not Lesley. Not then.

  Lesley sat and listened stoically. The words barely penetrated the dense fog of her grief. The details weren’t important. In time she’d ask Carl and learn what she needed to know. All that her heart could bear, all that her mind could assimilate in those first few weeks was the confirmation that Zane had been killed.

  The months passed. One day tumbled into the next with her barely aware of time passing. She had no appetite. She slept only when her physical body caved in to the demand for rest.

  She took a leave of absence from her job, and faced each day with bleak loneliness. She alternated between loving and missing Zane to the point of insanity, to swearing she hated him for the way he’d used and left her. An emotional medium had yet to be found.

  The one surprise in all this was the friendship she struck with Candy Hoffman. With Carl, too, but on a different level.

  Those first few weeks, Candy made a number of excuses to stop off at the house to visit Lesley. With Mrs. Applegate’s encouragement, her newfound friend forced Lesley out of the dark library, urged her to stand and soak up the sunlight. Encouraged her to talk about Zane.

  The progress was slow, but eventually Lesley began to look forward to Candy’s visits. If for nothing else, Lesley would forever be grateful that Candy helped her take her eyes off her loss enough to recognize the one truly amazing gift Zane had given her: their child.

  Because Candy was pregnant and alone, because the new lives their bodies nurtured thrilled them, they shared a deep and abiding bond.

  Carl, whom Lesley had always considered brusque and impatient, displayed another side of his personality with her. He made a point of checking up on her often and helped her in numerous ways.

  The leaves on the huge maple trees turned several shades of autumn. Burnt orange, gold and bronze leaves covered the yard. The days were much cooler now. The nights longer.

  By some unspoken agreement, Carl never stopped off at the house when Candy was there. It amazed Lesley how adept they were at missing one another. She never asked either one about their relationship, or lack of one. But even in her grief, Lesley couldn’t help notice how much in love Candy and Carl were.

  One afternoon, when the sun shone and the day was crisp and cold, Lesley sat at her favorite spot on the concrete bench where she could view the water. She sat here often, enjoyed breathing in the fresh air. Enjoyed talking to her unborn child.

  Over the past several months, Lesley had made friends with Eddie and Dennis, the two young boys Zane had found on the beach that one summer’s day. They sometimes came and fed apples to Arabesque, Zane’s gelding. Lesley was sure it wasn’t her company they found stimulating, but the goodies Mrs. Applegate took delight in feeding them afterward.

  Lesley’s thoughts were occupied with the boys’ visit when she made her way back toward the house. Her musings were interrupted by the sight of Carl’s truck barreling down the driveway.

  Lesley waited for him.

  “Hello, Carl.”

  “Lesley.” He eyed her rounding tummy. Unable to button several pairs of pants now, she’d taken to wearing ones with stretch waistbands. The smock was new and cheerful.

  Lesley laughed and pressed her hands over her abdomen. “I’m starting to show, aren’t I?”

  “You’re five months?”

  She nodded.

  “Candy?”

  Lesley understood the question without him having to voice it. “Our due dates are within a week of one another.”

  He looked away as though he were embarrassed to be asking her about Candy. “How’s she feeling?”

  “Wonderful, or so she says. I’m teaching her to knit.”

  One side of his mouth eased up as if the thought amused him.

  “She’s making a baby blanket,” Lesley elaborated.

  Once again his gaze avoided hers, but she could tell that his interest was keen. “Is the blanket blue or pink?”

  Lesley nodded. “The baby’s blanket is both pink and blue.”

  Carl’s eyes shot to hers, and widened with disbelief. “Twins. She’s having twins?”

  “No.” Lesley didn’t mean to laugh, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Since she doesn’t know the sex of the baby, she’s knitting the blanket in a variety of pastel colors, which include pink and blue.”

  “Oh.”

  Lesley swore Carl sounded disappointed.

  Together they strolled toward the house. “I didn’t come to talk to you about Candy.”

  “Good.” The way Lesley figured it, if Carl had something to say to her friend, he should do it himself.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  They entered the house and Lesley escorted him into the library. It was her favorite room, as it had been for Zane. She spent as much time as she could there. She’d had the attic transformed into one large office. The panoramic view from the office took her breath away. She’d had a number of windows added and loved the way the light filled the room as she worked.

  Almost before they even sat down, Mrs. Applegate brought Carl coffee and her tea along with a plate stacked high with Carl’s favorite cookies.

  Carl helped himself to a chocolate-chip cookie while Lesley poured. “I brought some papers over for you to look at,” Carl said. “It’s about the investments we made in that mutual fund group last month. I think you’ll be pleased.”

  Carl had recommended the investment, and after she’d read up on the group herself, Lesley had invested several thousand dollars. She handed Zane’s friend a mug and poured her own herbal tea.

  “I’m ready,” she announced as she sat down. She wasn’t sure what prompted the statement, but she knew it to be true. “Tell me what happened with Zane.”

  Until that moment she couldn’t bear knowing the details, and had blocked everything from her mind. Zane was dead and that was all that was important.

  Carl studied her as if to gauge her emotional strength.

  “You’re sure?”

  Lesley assured him that she was.

  “Schuyler was holed up in the Middle East.”

  Lesley knew this much. The country was a tiny one she’d never heard of until the day Carl had arrived with Candy.

  “He knew Zane was coming. Any element of surprise had long since been taken away. Knowing that, Zane phoned and invited Schuyler to meet him face-to-face.”

  How like her husband to confront his enemy. Her chest tightened, knowing Zane had probably walked into a trap, one that had cost him his life.
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  “Why did Schuyler agree?” Knowing what little she did of the terrorist, Lesley could think of no reason for him to elude Zane, or go back into hiding. According to what Carl had told her, Schuyler was an expert at disguise. He could easily change his appearance enough to have slipped away without a trace.

  Carl hesitated, and his gaze held hers. “Zane’s plan was brilliant.”

  Seeing that her husband was dead, Lesley questioned that, but said nothing.

  “He had been searching for Schuyler for months, but he did it in an ingenious way. Instead of hiring detectives and paying off informants, he had Schuyler’s picture printed on boxes of candy and on matchbooks. He promised a large reward to whoever located him. Then he attacked Schuyler on an entirely different level, as well.” The sparkle in Carl’s eyes revealed his admiration.

  Lesley wasn’t sure what he meant.

  “Zane went after Schuyler’s power base. He had the advantage because Schuyler assumed the explosion had killed Zane. It wasn’t until this summer that Schuyler learned otherwise. All the while Zane was building up his strength, he was able to gather vital information.”

  Lesley shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “A man like Schuyler can’t operate without money, connections and other means of support. With the help of tracers, Zane managed to filter false information about Schuyler to his supporters. Dissention broke out among the fanatics who backed him, and he was forced to come out of hiding to personally meet with them.”

  Lesley wasn’t sure she entirely understood everything Carl explained, but enough to follow the gist.

  “Schuyler made one small mistake that literally cost him millions.” Carl smiled as he spoke. “Exactly how Zane managed this I’ll never know, but he discovered a bank in the Cayman Islands where Schuyler held several million dollars, unbeknownst to his ardent supporters.”

  “In other words, the terrorist had cheated his friends.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Not only did Zane leak the information, but he got the account number and withdrew almost all the money.”

  Lesley’s gaze fell on the financial papers Carl had brought over for her to read.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. He took that money and divvied it up to a number of charities.”

  How like Zane to see that ill-gotten gains would be put to use serving mankind.

  “Now you can understand why Schuyler was so eager to meet with Zane,” Carl concluded.

  “Of course,” she whispered. “Schuyler hated him.”

  Carl’s eyes sobered. “Schuyler wanted revenge.”

  And he’d gotten it, Lesley noted.

  “But how did he learn Zane was the one responsible for what was happening with his finances?”

  “I’m not sure, but once that information was out, Zane had no choice but to deal with Schuyler himself. The options had been taken away from him. His greatest fear was that the terrorist would come after you. He had to make sure that would never happen.”

  “The meeting,” Lesley prompted, wanting to know everything. Where once knowing the details of Zane’s death had been a burden too heavy to carry, now she found the information vital. She hungered for every tidbit Carl could give her.

  “Zane suggested they meet in the desert.”

  Naturally her husband would do whatever he could to protect innocent bystanders, although the anonymity of a crowd would have protected him. “Surely he didn’t go in there alone.”

  “No. But then neither did Schuyler.”

  Zane had knowingly walked into a meeting, with a man who had powerful reasons to hate him, and a burning desire to kill him.

  “I don’t know exactly what did happen, I don’t think anyone ever will,” Carl said, his face grim and tight. “But when it was over, there were no witnesses and Schuyler was dead.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Very. It was more than revenge, Lesley. Dan and Dave’s death wasn’t the only thing this was about. The world’s a better place without Schuyler.”

  And an emptier, lonely place without Zane, Lesley added mentally.

  She pressed her palms against her abdomen. “I needed to know…I thought the baby should hear the details herself when the time came for me to tell her about her father.”

  “Her?” Carl eyed her skeptically.

  “I don’t know for certain yet, but that’s what I believe.” It was what Zane had told her the night he’d come to her, but she didn’t explain that to Carl.

  They sat and drank the remainder of their drinks in silence. Lesley’s thoughts were filled with the sacrifice Zane had made and what his final moments must have been like. She was confident that his last moments on this earth were filled with thoughts of her.

  Carl seemed wrapped up in his own deep musings. “I understand you and Candy are seeing the same gynecologist,” her friend said casually.

  “Dr. Wilson.”

  He reached for a cookie and broke it in half as though he suspected Mrs. Applegate had hidden something of value inside. “Is everything alright with the pregnancy?”

  “So far, so good. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

  The suggestion hung in the air between them like a helium-filled balloon. He seemed to consider the suggestion, then sadly shook his head. “If she needs anything…tell her she can count on me.”

  “I’m not Western Union, Carl.” She couldn’t allow herself to become involved with what was happening between these two people she loved. She wanted to help, and tried to be gentle, seeing that Carl had been so kind and patient with her. “If you don’t want to tell her these things yourself, write her a letter.”

  His eyes briefly lit up at the suggestion, but she watched as the frustration and discouragement clouded his judgment. ‘I’ve already said everything. She knows I’d help her in any way I could, but she’s just too stubborn to ask.”

  Candy, stubborn! It was almost more than Lesley could do not to suggest that Carl take a look in the mirror himself.

  Thanksgiving Day, Candy woke feeling melancholy and fat. She was nearly six months pregnant and there wasn’t a single pair of jeans that fit her any longer. Lesley had opted to buy maternity pants a month earlier, but Candy had held out until that very morning.

  It didn’t help any that she would be spending the day alone. Lesley was joining her parents, something Candy had suggested herself. Now she wished she hadn’t been quite so encouraging.

  Lesley Ackerman had turned out to be one of the best friends Candy had ever had. Other than the obvious, the two shared a good deal in common.

  Not once had Lesley drilled her over her relationship with Carl. Nor had she tried to patch matters up between the two of them or offered her advice. For all three, Candy was grateful. Nothing anyone said would convince her to marry Carl Saks. Nothing.

  Candy dressed and dragged herself into the kitchen wearing her slippers. The bouts of morning sickness had long since passed, replaced with a healthy appetite. She’d been careful about weight gain and was well within the parameters Dr. Wilson had suggested.

  Maintaining her diet during the holidays couldn’t be any more difficult than abstaining from caffeine. How she missed her morning cup of leaded fuel. If Carl knew…

  She paused mid-thought, unwilling to allow her mind to dwell on the subject of Carl Saks. Not this day when she was already feeling abandoned and lonely. Not today when families all across the country gathered together to count their blessings.

  Candy had several blessings, but no family. If ever there was a day to treat herself, it was this one. After a meager breakfast and equally dinky lunch, Candy dressed in one of her new outfits and drove to Bluebeard’s, the restaurant where Carl had taken her for their first official date. It seemed far more trouble than it was worth to roast a turkey and all the trimmings for just one person.

  The crowded parking lot wasn’t encouraging, but Candy eventually found a spot and hurried inside out of the cold. The weather had
dipped below freezing and the sky was dark. The weatherman had suggested snow, and that suited her just fine. In an effort to lift her spirits, she’d decided to decorate for Christmas that evening.

  A hostess Candy didn’t recognize greeted her with a warm holiday welcome. Several people crowded around the cash register and the woman wrote everyone’s name down on a waiting list.

  “A table for one,” Candy said when it came her turn to give her name. “How long is the wait?” She was already hungry and the smells coming from the dining room were delicious.

  “Forty-five minutes, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh.” That long. It was difficult to hide her disappointment. She should have thought to make reservations.

  “There’s another party here whose name is about to come up that also asked for a table for one. Perhaps you two would be willing to share?”

  “It’s fine with me, if the other party doesn’t object” What a lovely solution, Candy mused, delighted with the suggestion. She hadn’t been that keen on eating alone and would welcome the company.

  “I’ll be right back,” the woman told her. She returned a moment later. “That will be fine. Follow me.”

  Candy’s mistake was that she didn’t stop to look at her dinner companion until they reached the table. When she turned to thank the person who’d been willing to have her join him, her eyes collided with Carl Saks’s brooding gaze.

  Her first inclination was to call back the hostess and tell her she’d had a change of heart, but the restaurant was packed. It was exactly the type of behavior what Carl would expect of her.

  “Thank you,” she said, making sure her voice revealed none of her feelings. She pulled out the chair and sat down. If he objected, then he could be the one to leave. Squatter’s rights must hold for something!

  Candy must have studied the menu for five straight minutes while she gathered her composure. The bus-boy delivered water, bread and soft butter before she set the menu aside. There’d never been any question of what she wanted to order. Turkey and all the trimmings.

  Carl looked as if he’d rather be anyplace on this earth than sitting across the table from her. His brow was knit and he couldn’t seem to take his brooding eyes off her.