“And?”
Nicholas snorted. “She threw her arms around my neck and promised to keep my secret and always be my friend. And she followed through on her promise. Ruth Farwell gave me a reason to live. For six more years of hell, I did everything my father demanded and expected. It wasn’t easy on either of us. There was something different about me. As I got older, I looked more boy than a girl, no matter how frilly the dress. I grew taller than most girls, even taller than my middle brother, Robert, and my father.”
“You cared for her. I hear it in your voice.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “Deeply.”
Fiona pushed the covering away, swung her legs to the floor, and reached toward the robe at the bottom of the bed. She frowned when she didn’t grasp it in the first try, so Nicolas picked it up. “Please, allow me. Turn around.” He could see her war with herself on whether to accept his help or not. Fiona turned and allowed him to help her into the robe. He stopped his assistance at that. Fiona used the bed to guide herself to the rocking chair by the window. She sat. “Need out of bed. Bring your chair over here and continue.” As Nicholas brought the chair over, she asked, “Did you keep Ruth in your life?”
“Yes, for quite some time, actually. When I was old enough to leave home, I rented a room at the back of the studio and learned all I could from the Farwell’s. That was the beginning of my career as N. Allen, doing freelance work for the local newspapers. I had direct access to murders that were under investigation.”
“Goodness. You have experience with murders and murderers. No wonder we got as far as we did.”
“I was closer than most ever knew.”
“Nicholas?” Fiona said, “Tell me nothing happened to Ruth.”
“Oh, no, not that,” he said.
Fiona harrumphed. “Good. You know, Nicholas, we all have darkness in us. I care about you and, honestly, I like the man in this room, who has been there for me and is my friend. The man you are right now tells me all I need to know about you. Our pasts are just that, Nicholas. Past.”
Nicholas leaned back again. Ruth would adore Fiona, take to her right from the first meeting; he was sure of it. He looked forward to introducing them. If he could ever make amends for the time he’d allowed to get in the way.
“Goodness,” Fiona said. She hoped he believed her, that his past and whatever darkness he believed he carried wasn’t important. After all, he had suffered in his childhood. She was surprised Nicholas was as well-adjusted as he presented. Nicholas was a friend. She knew all she needed to know. “My only question is why you never returned to Ruth? You care for her. Did you not part well?”
“I proposed and wanted to spend my life with Ruth. She told me she couldn’t. Told me to see how far I could go with my photography.” He grinned and gave a sniff. “Told me to spread my wings and, if I still wanted her, come back. She’d be waiting.” Nicholas sighed heavily, apparently plopping back into the chair from the sound of it. “How could I, after my heart's infidelity? For a time, I thought I loved Blanche. Wasn’t thinking about Ruth then, was I? Over the years, I did think of her often but continued engaging my heart elsewhere. It’s been ten years. I’m sure Ruth has moved on.”
“Maybe, Nicholas, maybe. Don’t you at least want closure? Whether she has or not, doesn’t she deserved to know what happened to her best friend, her first love?”
“How could she when I’ve been unfaithful to her? She’s better off without me,” Nicholas said, finality in his tone.
“Don’t do this to her, or to yourself.” Fiona couldn’t believe Nicholas would give up so easily. When Nicholas spoke of Ruth, spoke her name, Fiona could hear the depth of feeling and warmth in his voice. From what she could gather from Nicholas’s tale, the main reason for his delay could be attributed to his own insecurity. Ruth knew every secret Nicholas held. No matter his fame, the years that separated them, Nicholas didn’t believe, after Blanche and Ethel, especially, he deserved Ruth’s love. “Maybe she has moved on, Nicholas. But after all the two of you shared, Ruth deserves to know what happened to you. An incredible woman is waiting for news from you. You aren’t giving Ruth a chance she deserves. And, she deserves to see for herself the incredible man you’ve become.”
“What if she doesn’t like who I have become? Especially after a decade.”
Fiona snorted. “Seriously?” She extended a finger in his direction. “You are the famous and infamous Nicholas Alan Tirrell, aka N. Allen. What’s not to love?”
Nicholas laughed heartily. “Well, there is that, of course. You’re right. I’m quite remarkable.”
“There we go. There’s the Nicholas I know. Ego back in place.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Tessa forced a smile and politely entertained her customers, Mrs. Russo and her daughter, Bianca. What she wanted to do is close the store and wait for a possible appearance by Jo. She missed her presence in the shop, the easy camaraderie they shared. The touches and the stolen kisses. They’d been trying to keep their meetings discreet, but neither wanted Warren’s undue attention on them. He hadn’t attempted to engage her with calls or visits, but Tessa had no doubts he watched her or had others doing it for him. Two could play that game. Randall was their go-between. He often let them know when Warren would be away from the area. The problem was they’d only seen each other twice since that night.
Currently, Mrs. Russo focused her attention on the music box Jo had gifted her. Although Tessa admitted to herself, of the numerous possible women who could have been in her shop, Mrs. Agatha Russo was the more welcomed.
“This is the most beautiful box I’ve ever seen,” Mrs. Russo said. “And I’ve seen some remarkable work in my travels.”
As the older woman went on, Tessa listened with half an ear as she focused on the three individuals quietly, save for the ringing of the bell above the door, entered her shop. The man was tall and handsome, the woman beautiful in an understated way. Between them was a small boy about Richard’s age. Nice looking family new to town if the luggage were any indication. Tessa nodded toward them.
“Fiona Cavanaugh created this, you say?” The attention of both adults flashed in their direction.
“Yes,” Tessa said. “I’ve always been amazed at her woodworking, but this,” she indicated the box, “is a work of art.” A broad grin lit the man’s face, and Tessa’s curiosity piqued. His proud beaming didn’t last long.
Unaware, or uncaring of the strangers behind her, Agatha rolled on. “If the rumors are true, I wouldn’t expect this. Doesn’t look like the work of a gangster.”
“Because she isn’t,” the man barked. He stormed closer to the counter, the woman and child remained by the front window. “Fiona worked with the police to bring down the gangsters, at great cost to her both physically and emotionally. Fiona saved many children, some no more than twelve-years-old, from enslaved prostitution. Young women, like your daughter, who came from good homes.” As he spoke, his voice rose in temper-filled defense, but Tessa heard his pain.
The woman with him spoke his name as she protectively clutched the child closer. “One woman, her friend, was found by Fiona, chained to a bed, tortured, starved. The women used by the whim of multiple men who had a few moments to play. During the rescue, Fiona dodged most of the bullets fired at her to save her friend. Her friend died in her arms anyway.”
“Ian, enough,” the woman said sternly, louder. “You’re scaring Adam.” He appeared to have heard her this time. Tessa couldn’t say if it were because of her tone his tirade had ended, or because of the little boy. Nostrils flaring, he glared at the Russo’s and her in turn. “If this is the small-mindedness she deals with, it’s probably best I take her home.”
Tessa felt her heart stop at the words. No. No matter what happened because of Warren, Tessa couldn’t lose Jo completely. She believed she had time to make everything right between them, fix them right, and strengthen their bond. If the Cavanaugh’s left Pueblo that could
never happen. When the comforting laughter she recognized as Jo’s sounded behind her, Tessa felt her shoulders sag in relief as the tension left her. Jo came.
“Ian Donnelly, stop scaring the locals.” Jo entered the room from behind her, moved around Tessa to launch herself in the man’s arms. “Missed you, Detective.” Jo waved to the woman who held the hand of the child, who subsequently smiled as if women threw themselves at Ian regularly. “Hello, Janice.” Janice sat on the window seat, pulled the boy onto her lap, apparently satisfied Ian was in good hands. Jo released the man, stepped back and slapped him on the arm. “Apologies, please,” Jo ordered.
“I’m sorry,” Agatha said, as concurrently, Ian said, “my apologies, ma’am.”
Tessa drank in the sight of Jo. She gave Jo her space. Tessa wasn’t her brother and didn’t share his views and needed Jo to understand. Tessa wanted nothing to do with Warren. But their fear of other bad behavior directed at the Cavanaugh’s had them outwardly estranged. Do all the Cavanaugh’s hate her because of Warren’s actions? Jo said no, but Tessa didn’t know for certain. Jo wouldn’t want to hurt her, Tessa knew.
“Ian Donnelly, this is Mrs. Agatha Russo and her daughter Bianca,” Jo introduced. Agatha blushed when Ian took her hand and pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles.
Bianca shook his hand rather than allow the hand-kissing but disinclined to permit her mother to take the blame for her words. With the pointed sniff, Bianca said, “I understand the impulse to protect family and friends, Mr. Donnelly. That said, had you paid better attention to mother’s words, you would have realized she intended to discount the rumors in her complement of Fiona’s work. Intending no gangster could create such beauty.”
Tessa nodded. “Didn’t look like, hence couldn’t be, gangsters work.” She extended her hand. “Welcome to Seamlessly Stylish. I’m Tessa Langford.”
Ian stared at her intently but shook her extended hand. “Tessa Langford? As related to—” The rage returned to his eyes.
“Yes, well,” Bianca said overly loud. “I believe it’s time I take mother home.” She hooked an arm through her mother’s, tugging as they moved to the door. Agatha stopped, turned toward Ian, and said, “I never meant harm, Detective Donnelly. Rest assured, I shall staunch any further gossip as I can. Miss Cavanaugh has a new verbal protector.” At Ian’s nod, they left.
However, it appeared Ian wasn’t finished with Tessa. “You’re related to the man responsible for Fiona’s current condition?” It wasn’t a question, his gaze hard. When he crossed his arms over his chest, Tessa suspected he challenged her. What did he expect of her? He knew, obviously, who had hurt Fiona. Did he believe the siblings were cut from the same cloth?
Raising her chin defiantly, Tessa said, “Yes, his younger and only sister.”
What Tessa didn’t expect was Jo coming to her defense. She stepped in front of Tessa. Jo said, “Let her alone, Ian. She’s not like Warren. Tessa is—” Jo stopped to rub at the pained expression on her face. They couldn’t be together because of Warren. Had they officially dissolved the relationship? Were they no longer girlfriends? Would this be the official dissolution? Was hiding their relationship too difficult for Jo? “She’s mine. Tessa is my girlfriend, no matter who doesn’t approve. Including you.”
Tessa didn’t know who was more surprised by the statement, her or Ian. She wanted to pull Jo into her arms to express her appreciation but didn’t know how Jo would react to open displays of affection. More so, Tessa didn’t want to break down in her own emotion-filled responses.
Ian hesitantly uncrossed his arms. His features softened a little as he stared at her over Jo’s shoulder. Then, his gaze switched to Jo. “You sure? She seems a bit surprised.”
“Long story. I’m sure you’re tired from the train ride. I’ll take you to the house.” Jo and Ian went to Janice, the child, and picked up the luggage. Summarily dismissed, Tessa started for the back room. “Tessa?” Jo said her name softly, but her hesitancy recognizable. “I know I’m interfering with your business, but,” Jo paused, her expression pleading. “Would you join us?” Tessa blinked rapidly to stem the flow of tears. She didn’t trust her voice, not willing to betray her confused emotions. Tessa nodded. “We’ll give you a moment to lock up. It’ll be a tight squeeze just so you’re prepared.” Jo gave her a smile. “Meet you at the truck?”
Tessa rushed to secure her apartment, the back stairwell, and then the front door. She wiped at tears of joy. She had wanted time with Jo, wanted to explain to the Cavanaugh’s how sorry she was, and Jo was extending the hand to allow her to do so. Unsure of the reception she would receive at the house, Tessa nervously slid next to Janice so she was in the middle of the seat, but silently vowed to withstand anything if it meant even a few moments more with Jo.
The ride was silent, with only the sounds of the truck’s engine as Jo drove them to her home. Tessa was certain she would be able to hear the heartbeats of the occupants if her own wasn’t drumming in her ears. Her pulse quickened, along with warmth that flooded her system at the tight contact with Jo’s thigh in the confined space. When they pulled up in front of the house, Ian exited the truck first and assisted Janice and the little boy—who had yet to utter a sound. Jo’s strong hand on her thigh stopped Tessa from following them. “We will be right there,” Jo said at Ian’s curious glance.
Margaret and Brigid were ushering them inside, but Tessa hesitated from looking at Jo, afraid and uncertain of what she’d find in her lover’s eyes. Jo really wants her to participate in the family gathering. Or was this a way to ambush Tessa as the next best target for Warren? Tessa quickly disabused herself of that, though. Jo wasn’t the type to backstab her, or anyone, like that. Her heart was too tender.
“You’re afraid,” Jo said. She pulled the key from the ignition and pocketed it.
“Yes. But I understand if—”
Jo scooted closer, her voice a caressing brush against Tessa’s ear. “I’ve missed you.” Tessa tried to swallow the sob ineffectually. “I’ve tried to stay away as I promised. It is so hard. The harder I try to push you from my thoughts, the more you consume them.”
Tessa was afraid to look at Jo. No matter what she saw, any expression from Jo would release the torrent of tears, she was barely able to contain. Instead, she said, “Miss you too. I’ll accept whatever your family wants, even to punish me. I never wanted this to happen.”
“Oh, honey,” Jo said. “My family has no plans to punish you. Look at me, please.” Tessa turned to face Jo, who clasped Tessa’s hands in hers. “I don’t want to anger Warren, Tessa, but it has been so hard to pretend I don’t care for you, don’t want to spend time with you.” She inhaled deeply. “I’ll do my best to continue with the pretense, but this is my family, and you’re my heart. I want you to be part of my life.”
“Oh, Jo, I want that too.” Tessa squeezed the hands, holding hers. “I understand your reasoning for wanting to leave me, but I’ve never wanted, never loved anyone as much as you. If you need me to stay away, I will. Please, Jo, don’t make it forever.” Tessa remembered a comment Ian made at the store. Lowering her gaze, Tessa asked, “If they take you back to Boston, will you go?”
“We are not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
Tessa shook her head. “You don’t know that, Jo. Ian was pretty angry.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now.” Jo brushed the pad of her thumb across Tessa’s chin and up her jaw. “No matter what’s decided, I won’t leave you behind, understand? We will get through this. Trust me.”
“I do, Jo, trust you. I don’t intend to stop.”
Jo smiled at her. “Margaret is staring at us from the porch. We better get inside before she gives us the teacher look.”
“Heaven forbid,” Tessa said. Her heart felt much lighter as she and Jo joined the others inside.
Margaret watched Jo and Tessa from the porch. Anyone had to just look at the two, and it was obvious how much they cared for one ano
ther. She wished times were different. That love alone could be enough. Janice joined her as Jo and Tessa walked up the sidewalk. “They’re cute.”
“But it’s not going to be easy for them.”
“It never is.” Janice placed an arm around Margaret’s waist. “Jo’s grown into quite the young woman.”
“Yes, she has.” Margaret said. Jo and Tessa entered the house and Margaret said to Jo, “I’m glad you two decided not to spend the evening in the truck,” she teased. She reached for Tessa’s hand and gave a squeeze, then released it. “Tessa, I’m glad you could join us. Welcome. Fiona’s resting, but I’ll wake her in a little while. Could you both help Brigid get everyone settled?” They acquiesced and went into the house.
Margaret dropped her head to Janice’s shoulder. “Glad you came. Your letter arrived only an hour ago.”
Janice squeezed her waist and waggled her eyebrows. “Surprise.”
Margaret laughed. “Yes.” She paused. “What’s going on, Janice? You wrote about a visit, and that Ian would be with you. You didn’t mention a child. Something you need to tell me? Are you and Ian—”
“God, no.” Janice snorted. “He learned I was coming this way, and lovelorn Ian decided to play escort. He came for Brigid, not for any real assistance. Although,” she shrugged, “he’s been pretty good with Adam.” Janice lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “Ian’s been beside himself with all the news. Doc Matthews mentioned Fiona’s health. Just before we left, he updated us about her blindness.”
Margaret frowned. “How did he know?”
“Ha.” Janice rolled her eyes. “You know the rich love to gossip. She told her parents and news got around from there. Ian has maintained contact with Brigid’s parents. I guess it’s been beneficial. Ta-da, here we are.”
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