His voice became brisk. “How are your acting skills? You used to be pretty good as a kid. Especially if it was a question of saving young Dean’s bacon.”
But Marcus, she recalled, had always seen through her subterfuges on Dean’s behalf. As he’d seen through her today and stepped in to avert what might have been a dampener on the family reunion, an embarrassment to everyone.
When she remained silent, he added, “It’s entirely your choice, but if you come along I promise I’ll make it as bearable as I can—and we’ll leave early.”
Jenna took a deep breath. “I’ll come.”
She couldn’t read the look he gave her. His mouth was very firm, his eyes dark and probing. Then he put out a hand to squeeze hers before starting the car.
It was just as bad as she had imagined.
Marcus parked in the asphalt area in front of the sprawling old house with its gabled windows, the walls and decorative trims freshly painted in honor of Dean’s return. Brushing past scented lavender and frilled pinks in pots at the side of the steps, they went in the big front door that was expectantly open and through the wide hallway.
The adults were sitting around in the family room with cups of tea and coffee, while the children darted between the chairs and chased one another in and out of the French windows opening onto the tree-fringed lawn and the fenced pool.
Marcus explained their delayed arrival by saying he’d needed something to eat after being dragged out of bed at some ungodly hour at his younger sister’s insistence and then stuck at the airport for nearly an hour.
“You could have eaten here,” his mother chided.
“I was too hungry to wait.” He smiled at her. “And going without breakfast didn’t do Jenna any good, either.”
Mrs. Crossan gave her a sympathetic look. “You are a wee bit pale.” She dropped her voice and murmured anxiously, “You’re not upset about Dean’s engagement, are you, dear?”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Jenna lied valiantly. “Callie’s beautiful, isn’t she? And Dean looks so happy.”
“Well, yes.” Mrs. Crossan’s eyes turned to the couple, and Jenna saw the smile she couldn’t help. “They are very happy.”
Dean and Callie had freshened up, and Callie looked even more gorgeous than she had at the airport. Dean hardly took his eyes off her for long enough to wave to his brother and throw a careless “Hi, again!” at Jenna.
She should be glad he didn’t look at her too closely, but instead she felt a jealousy so strong and painful she had to bunch a fist at her midriff to stop it hurting so much.
Marcus’s fingers closed over hers and pried them apart. “Is there coffee on?” he asked no one in particular. “Let’s get some, Jenna.” He hauled her with him into the big, sun-filled kitchen.
“We just had coffee,” she said as he dropped her hand and went to the machine in a corner of the counter.
“Have some more. Or can I get you something stronger?”
Jenna shook her head. She needed her wits about her. “No.”
He pulled two mugs from hooks under the cupboards and filled them, stirring some sugar into hers. “Here.”
Katie came in, a pile of cups and saucers in her hands. “Are you all right, Jen?”
Trying not to sound too hearty, Jenna injected a faint note of surprise into her reply. “I’m fine. Are you pleased to have your brother home? Don’t answer that. Silly question.”
Katie grinned, obviously unable to suppress it. “I never realized how much I missed him.” The grin fading abruptly, she added, placing the cups on the counter, “Callie’s a bit of a bolt from the blue, though.” Her eyes worried, she asked, “He…he hadn’t said anything about her to you, had he?”
“Not a thing.” Jenna made her voice cheerful. “If he’d told anyone it would have been you.”
Marcus interjected, “A whirlwind romance? If even you didn’t know anything, Katie…”
“He did mention her a couple of times, but I never twigged she was anyone special, and he hadn’t said anything about her recently. He says he was scared she’d turn him down, and he didn’t want to come home and have us all know he was nursing a broken heart. She only agreed to come to New Zealand with him a couple of weeks ago, and he decided to keep it secret until they got here, so he could see our faces when he gave us the news.”
Thank heaven he hadn’t seen hers, Jenna thought. She curled her hand around her hot coffee mug, ignoring the discomfort.
Katie added thoughtfully, “And I have a suspicion he was afraid she might change her mind before he got her on the plane.”
Jenna forced a smile. “Well, it’s a nice surprise, isn’t it?”
Dubiously, Katie agreed, “I suppose so. Are you sure you’re okay with it, Jen?”
Hoping she looked bewildered and innocent, Jenna said, “Of course. Dean’s very happy. And I’m happy for him. Aren’t you?”
Hesitantly, Katie said, “I thought it would be you and him. Even when we were kids you said you were going to marry each other.”
Jenna’s laugh should have earned her an Oscar. “We were—what?—eight years old? Come on, Katie!”
“Sometimes when we were older it kind of looked like you were more than friends.”
Jenna had thought so. They’d exchanged kisses from time to time. She’d imagined that, like her, Dean was keeping their relationship on the level of a warm, intimate friendship while they both worked hard at their degrees and were too young and impecunious for marriage.
After they’d graduated, the scholarship had come up for him to study in America. He’d asked Jenna’s opinion, stressing how long he’d be away from home, and she’d somehow concealed her panic and dismay and said of course he must take it, a chance like that wasn’t to be missed.
The kiss he gave her then was definitely not a brotherly one, and she’d seen it as a promise, a pledge, an unspoken commitment to a shared, if deferred, future.
She’d held on to that memory for four years. And now she wondered if Dean even remembered it. Certainly it had held none of the significance for him that it had for her.
Painfully putting her newfound insight into words, Jenna said, “We grew out of it. If there’d been anything serious, Dean wouldn’t have left me to go to the other side of the world for years. Would he?”
Marcus added, “Wishful thinking, Katie. Very nice for you, to match your twin and your best friend, but in real life our childhood sweethearts grow up and marry other people.”
“Did yours?” Katie asked, temporarily diverted.
“Of course,” Marcus answered. “And I didn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it.”
Katie switched her attention back to Jenna. “Have I been daydreaming?”
“I won’t lose a moment’s sleep,” Jenna echoed Marcus, trying to sound as convincing.
Either Marcus had sown the seed of doubt, or Katie decided to take her cue from Jenna’s denial. “Well, that’s a relief,” she said. For a long second her eyes rested thoughtfully on her friend, before she began stacking cups and saucers in the dishwasher.
Jenna and Marcus finished their coffee, and all three of them rejoined the others. Neighbors dropped in to say hello, and a cousin phoned inquiring after the traveler. Dean invited her and her parents and boyfriend to come over.
A party atmosphere developed. Some of the guests sat out on the tiled patio, and children were allowed to jump in the swimming pool in its fenced enclosure at the back of the house. Jenna talked and laughed and even conducted a conversation with Callie and Dean, finding that Callie was exactly what she looked like, a golden California girl. She’d been studying at the same university as Dean, although they had met only a few months ago.
“And when he opened his mouth and I heard that cute accent,” Callie confessed, her hand caressing Dean’s arm, “it was love at first sound.”
“She thought I was Australian,” Dean teased, grinning adoringly at her. “I had to educate her about the difference between Kiwis
and Aussies.”
“It took him all night.” Callie swept him a flirtatious look.
“Slow learner.” Dean shook his head, returning the look.
Jenna’s smile felt set in concrete. She didn’t think the two of them would have noticed if everyone else in the room had disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Marcus laid a hand lightly on Jenna’s shoulder. “Dad says you haven’t seen his latest acquisition,” he said. “He wants me to show it to you.”
Gratefully she followed Marcus to the back lawn, where a shade house was tucked into a corner screened by pink-flowered manuka shrubs. Mr. Crossan was a keen amateur orchid grower, and when Marcus ushered her into the shade house, they were surrounded by pots and hanging baskets of the exotic, distinctive flowers.
The air was cool here, and the bark chips that covered the ground muffled their footsteps. A damp rich smell pervaded the glassed-in area.
Jenna walked along the narrow space between the tiered benches holding rows of orchids, many of them smothered in blossom. Delicate, spidery varieties and large opulent ones were ranged along both sides, the flowers spilling over their pots, some almost to the ground. “Which one are we looking at?”
“The pink one over here.” He guided her to it with a hand lightly on her waist and stood behind her as she studied the pale, frilled blooms, flushed with gold at the throat.
Tentatively she touched a fingertip to a delicate petal. “It’s very pretty.”
“It’s called Puppy Love,” Marcus told her, slanting her a rather dry sideways glance. “Personally I prefer the more sophisticated varieties.”
Staring down at the plant, Jenna blinked away tears. Puppy Love. A fragile flower. And though orchids lasted longer than other flowers, there came a time when they too withered away and died.
She turned away from it, and Marcus moved to let her pass him, returning along the row. “We needn’t hurry back.” He strolled after her, hands in his pockets. “No one will miss us for a while.”
No one would miss Jenna. Self-pity threatened to overwhelm her. But they’d miss Marcus for sure. Marcus was a dominant figure in any gathering, not only because of his height. There was a quiet air of confidence and authority about him that even his family acknowledged.
Maybe it came from being the eldest. Jane was nearly his own age, but having two much younger, mischievous siblings might have given him an exaggerated sense of responsibility.
She halted before a plant exploding with extravagant bronze blooms. They blurred before her eyes, and she bit down fiercely on her lower lip, squeezing her eyes shut, taking a long, deep breath.
Marcus said, “One of Dad’s prizewinners. Magnificent, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Her voice was husky, but his casual tone steadied her. “What…what’s it called, do you know?”
“The name should be on a marker in the pot.” Marcus leaned across to part some spiky leaves, and his sleeve brushed her arm. “Dark Delight.”
As he drew back he slanted her a swift glance, and his hand briefly rested on the skin of her arm, a comforting caress. His breath stirring her hair, he said, “It will get better, you know. Hard to believe right now, maybe, but I promise you it’s true.”
She gripped the edge of the bench in front of her. “I don’t want your sympathy, Marcus.” It would be too easy to turn and let him take her in his strong arms and hold her while she wept out her bewilderment and heartache. She had to get through this day without cracking, in order to keep her pride, at least, intact.
“Sorry.” As far as the space would allow, he moved away from her.
“I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful.”
“I’m not looking for gratitude, Jenna.”
“You’ve been awfully kind.” She blinked the tears away and managed to face him.
A strange expression crossed his hard features, almost as if he shared her pain. He lifted a hand, and his thumb wiped an escaped salty droplet from her cheek. “It will soon be over.” His thumb strayed to her abused lower lip, where she had bitten into it. Unexpectedly he dipped his head and pressed his firm mouth gently to hers.
Chapter Three
It lasted only a second, but a faint warmth seeped into her cold heart, and when he stepped back, saying, “Can you stand to go back inside?” she nodded, feeling somehow stronger, braced for the fray.
Jenna helped Katie and her mother rustle up an impromptu meal. Some visitors had drifted away, but there was quite a crowd around the big table in the spacious dining room, and Jenna’s lack of conversation went unnoticed. Marcus took a seat next to her, shielding her from Callie and Dean on his other side.
After the dishes were disposed of, Marcus found Jenna hanging up a tea towel in the kitchen, carefully straightening the edges. “Anytime you want,” he said, “we can go.”
Thankfully she took the hint. Steeling herself, she parried Katie’s suspicious surprise that she’d decided to go home after all, using the excuse that this was a family occasion, and repeated her congratulations to Dean and Callie.
Within minutes she was releasing a sigh of relief as she fastened her safety belt.
Marcus started the car and edged out of the driveway. “You can let go now, if you want,” he said.
Cry, she supposed he meant.
Although she’d been fighting tears for hours, now the urge to weep had left her altogether. She sat dry-eyed and silent beside Marcus all the way back to the city. The sunlight dancing on the water of the west harbor as they sped alongside it seemed to mock her bleak mood of despair.
Leaving the high speed zone, Marcus glanced at her as he eased off the accelerator. “Will you be all right on your own?”
“I won’t slit my wrists,” she promised.
He smiled. “I know you wouldn’t. If you’d rather come to my place, I have a spare room.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. You’ve been great, Marcus.”
“It doesn’t cost me anything, and much as I’d like to wring his neck, I couldn’t allow Dean’s homecoming to turn into a disaster.”
He might have been sorry for her, but his main concern was his family. Because she was close to his brother and sister, Jenna too had always come under his protection, but she guessed that if she threatened their happiness he’d sacrifice her without a second thought.
Which was right and natural. Only it didn’t make her feel any better.
Marcus said, “It’s a pity your mother’s so far away.”
For the past three years Jenna’s mother had been living in Invercargill, at the other end of the country, with her second husband. “I’m too old to run to my mother,” Jenna said.
She’d learned early in life that running to her mother didn’t solve anything. Karen Harper loved her daughter, but at times her own problems had been too overwhelming for her to cope with Jenna’s, as well.
Marcus cast her a glance. “If you do need someone to run to,” he offered, “I’ll be around.”
She managed a pale smile. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”
“Independent little cuss, aren’t you?”
“I’ve always tried to be.”
“Had to be, I suppose. It must have been tough, losing your father so early.”
“I never really knew him—I only have a few hazy memories. It was hard on my mother, though. I’m glad she’s found someone else.”
“We promised to keep an eye on you, you know, when she went to live down south.”
Jenna had been just short of twenty then, still at university and living in a students’ hall. “I don’t think she meant me to be a lifelong burden on your family.”
He turned the car into the quiet suburban street where she and Katie lived. “You’re not a burden, Jenna. You’re a friend. And that’s going to make things difficult for you over the next few months, perhaps. You won’t confide in Katie, will you?”
She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a disguised warning. “No.” It was going to be difficult enou
gh for Katie, adjusting to a stranger having a claim on her twin. Knowing that her closest friend carried a torch for him would add extra stress.
“Here you are.” The car stopped outside the building. “I’ll come in with you.”
“You don’t need to—”
He ignored that, and it was just as well. When she opened the door of the flat they were greeted by disaster. Water was dripping from the ceiling and running down the walls, spreading a huge dark stain across the carpet.
“Hell!” Marcus surveyed the mess. “It’s either a burst pipe or someone’s left a tap running in the flat above you.”
It was hours before it was all sorted. The upstairs owners—away for the weekend—were tracked down, a key located, the forgotten tap turned off. And then came the cleanup.
Marcus stayed despite Jenna’s protest. He made phone calls, shifted furniture, helped her mop up water, and tracked down a carpet-cleaning firm who sent a couple of men who moved more furniture and set huge electric fans about the place to dry out the carpets they’d lifted and folded back.
Over the roar of the motors Marcus said, “Well, that settles it. You’ll have to come to my place after all.”
“I don’t know if—”
“You can’t stay here,” he said. “Is all you need in this bag?” He lifted the tote that she’d previously put essentials into, assuming that she would stay the night at the Crossans’.
“I’ll just change my clothes,” she said, capitulating. Her cotton trousers and shirt were wet and grubby. “I won’t be long.”
One thing about the past few hours, she’d scarcely had a chance to think about Dean and his bride-to-be.
Marcus’s apartment was a direct contrast to the cheery muddle Jenna and Katie lived in. The main room was large and airy, the sofas long and luxurious and precisely aligned about a solid rimu coffee table that held one elegantly formed pottery dish. Theirs was invariably cluttered with magazines, paperback books left open and facedown, junk mail, the TV remote control, probably an opened snack food bag and quite likely a hair dryer and bottles of nail polish.
Marrying Marcus Page 2