She heard the front door close a short time later. Thinking it might be the doctor leaving, she rose from the table and went in search of Mr. Lewis to find out if everything had gone all right with Kane. As she passed through the parlor, she saw the older man still outside on the front drive where he was seeing off his friend and physician. Regina watched the two a second, but made no move to join them. She had already thanked Doc Watkins for looking at Stephan and could think of nothing to add to her fervent expression of gratitude.
Whatever was under discussion out there seemed to be taking a while. Turning away from the window, Regina moved down the hall to the bedroom where the doctor had been working over Kane.
The door was shut tight. She hesitated, then turned the knob and stepped inside.
Kane was alone and apparently asleep. He lay perfectly still except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. The white bandaging around his torso made a stark contrast with his sun-darkened skin as he lay naked to the waist, his arms on top of the sheet. His color was much better now that the frightening pallor he’d acquired during the long flight had receded. His jaw was firm beneath its obscuring stubble of beard, and his hair was crisp and black against the monogrammed cream linen of the pillowcase.
He wasn’t, and never would be, an easy person to know, Regina thought as she sat down carefully on the edge of the bed. He appeared so vital and self-contained, even in sleep. No one could get behind his guard unless he allowed it, and that seemed unlikely to happen. He was formidable in his certainty about truth and justice. Unyielding. It was doubtful he could ever understand, much less forgive, the conflicting needs and beliefs that had brought her to this place.
Regardless, she wouldn’t have him any other way. Too many people allowed far too much in the way of excuses these days, it seemed. They spoke disparagingly of hard-and-fast judgments while taking advantage of the multiplying shades of gray. Such sophistry was no substitute for what was right and true. Absolutes had their place, as did drawn lines and firm stands. They were the necessary bedrock of civilization. She applauded the fact that Kane believed in them, even if it meant they could never agree, never be together.
She had to go. She couldn’t stay here at Hallowed Ground, couldn’t continue to accept the hospitality of these people she had tried to harm. She had no right to expect special consideration or to take advantage of the fact that it was offered in spite of her transgressions.
She would love to stay, would love to sink into the comfort and caring, to become a part of the vast encompassing warmth of Kane’s family. Not just his Pops, of course, though she liked him so much, but all the others, as well: Luke and Betsy and Miss Elise, and the endless circle of Benedicts who knew and respected each other, depended on and looked out for each other. She longed to be one of them, both for herself and for her son, needed it in some way she couldn’t begin to explain, with a yearning too deep for words, almost beyond imagining.
It wasn’t going to happen. She was alone, and it was time she realized it, accepted it. She might as well start now.
Still, she couldn’t quite force herself to move, not yet. So she watched the man on the bed, thinking of all he had done. His protection, his caring, his courtesy. The gift of loving he had given her, and the gift of getting her son back.
The need to touch him one last time was so powerful, so necessary, that she reached out to place her fingers on his hand. It was not enough. She smoothed her hand along his arm, carefully avoiding his bandage, then up his shoulder. Pressing her palm to the steady beat of his heart, she closed her eyes an instant, then opened them again to trail the backs of her fingers upward over the strong curve of his neck and his beard-rough chin. His lips were incredibly smooth and warm. She brushed the firm contours with her fingertips.
He didn’t stir. There was no change in his breathing. Holding her breath, she leaned down and molded her mouth gently to his.
For an instant, she was swamped in remembered sensations. In bittersweet memories flavored with regret.
Gone. Never again. A single tear seeped from under her lashes, fell on his cheek. She lifted her head, used the soft stroke of one finger to brush away the salty track. Then she eased herself to her feet and turned away.
Lewis Crompton stood watching her from the open doorway. Worry grooved his face, but there was compassion in his eyes.
“I was just…checking on him,” Regina said as the heat of a flush surged to her hairline.
“Yes.” Kane’s grandfather cleared his throat with a rasp. “He’ll be all right, you know. Tom—that is, Doc Watkins—says all he needs is rest. Kane won’t let this get him down. He’s got things to do and he’ll be ready to get after them as soon as he wakes up.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Before he could say anything more, she went on, “You must be tired, especially after your accident. I could watch Kane if you’d like to go back to bed yourself.”
“No, no, I’m fine. Never did have much use for lying around. Anyway, I don’t think Kane will need much watching now except for checking to be sure he doesn’t run a fever.”
She agreed without looking at him. Pops was looking after Kane as Kane had looked after his Pops. It seemed right. To fill the awkward silence that threatened, she said, “Where’s Luke?”
“He went on home soon as he was satisfied Kane would be okay.”
“I should probably go, too,” she said, adding awkwardly, “I—expect you think I have a nerve, coming back here anyway, especially to this house.”
“Why would I think that?”
“After all that I’ve done,” she amplified with heat riding her cheekbones.
“I’m afraid,” he said gravely, “that I don’t know much about it. My grandson and I are close, but his confidence doesn’t extend to keeping me informed about his personal life. Or vice versa.”
Her gaze returned to his face. “You mean he hasn’t told you about me?”
“Apparently not.”
She wished she hadn’t mentioned it, but since she had, there was nothing for it but to go on. “I…came here under false pretenses.”
“You’re not a jewelry appraiser?” He lifted his thick white brows, though a faint smile came and went on his face.
“Well, yes, I am.”
“You never intended to bid on my wife’s jewelry or arrange for me to sell it?”
“Of course I did, but—”
“Then what’s false about it?”
She gave a helpless shake of her head as she answered, “Everything else. I’m so ashamed of imposing on you, for lying to you, for all of it.”
Long seconds ticked past before he answered. His penetrating gaze searched her face. Then he said, “You did come back last night, or actually early this morning, when you didn’t have to. Why is that?”
“I couldn’t leave Kane,” she said, frowning. “I mean, he’d been shot because of me, had lost so much blood. The least I could do was make sure he was all right.”
“In other words, you care about him just like the rest of us.”
She looked past his shoulder, at the pocket of his shirt, anywhere except his face. “I suppose I do. I really hate it that he was hurt, couldn’t stand it if what I’ve done, what I asked of him, had been—fatal.” She gave him a strained smile before she went on. “Not that it matters what I feel. It’s best that I just go. If you’re sure there’s nothing I can do to help, then Stephan and I will be leaving. That’s if someone could drive us to the motel?”
“I’m not too sure Kane would appreciate finding you gone when he wakes up.” The older man’s expression was judicious.
“Or he might be just as glad to have us off his hands. I’ve foisted myself on him, and you, long enough.”
“I haven’t heard him complaining.” That ghost of a smile was back in his eyes. “Certainly, I’m not.”
“You’re a kind man,” she said with difficulty, “but really, I have to go.”
“I won’t try to keep you if y
ou’re hell-bent on leaving, but I’ll say this much. Could be Kane needs someone like you. If I was a mite more superstitious, I’d say the powers-that-be sent you along for him, to keep him from being so all-fired sure he knows what’s what. They have a tendency to do that now and again.”
Regina couldn’t quite see what he meant, but it didn’t matter. “Kane has high standards, and I don’t think I measure up. Stephan and I will be better on our own, honestly. Besides, I need to rent a car, do some shopping. Stephan has only one set of clothes and nothing else, not even a toothbrush, since we came away in such a hurry. Actually, I left my own things behind, as well, so you can see…”
He gave a slow nod. “Well now, I can take care of at least part of your problems. Let me get my car keys.”
It wasn’t easy persuading Mr. Lewis that he should leave her and Stephan at the motel when the shopping expedition was done. By the time she had managed that and put away the things she had bought, she was exhausted. Stephan also seemed to have run out of energy. They ate a sketchy lunch from the collection of canned and packaged snacks that she had bought, then lay down together in the bed for a quick nap.
It was late evening when Regina opened her eyes again. She lay for a long time simply holding her son and staring at nothing. She knew there were things she should be doing, but couldn’t think what they were, couldn’t make herself move. Depression was a dark weight in her mind. Everything seemed too much trouble.
She wondered if Kane was awake by now and if he was still okay, but couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone to see. In any case, it seemed that the less contact she had with him, the better it would be in the long run.
She might never speak to Kane again, never hear his voice or watch the quick flash of what he thought and felt mirrored in his eyes. Never match wits and tempers with him, feel his arms around her, or sense the slow rise of passion that only he could produce inside her.
She wouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t.
This mood wouldn’t last; she knew that. She still had Stephan. They were a family of two, and she had to take care of them somehow, on her own. She needed to think about where she was going to go from here, also what she was going to do when she got there, how she was going to spend the interminable rest of her life.
There was something else troubling her, too. She wasn’t sure where it came from exactly, but had the nagging feeling there was something left undone. There was something she should consider or be a part of before she could close the door on this episode and go on to the next. The only trouble was, she couldn’t quite catch hold of what it might be.
It came to her later, after she and Stephan had shared a pizza for their dinner. After they had watched a Disney movie on television, then checked out the late news. After she had watched Stephan brush his teeth, told him a bedtime story, given him a hug, and turned out the light.
There had been a piece on the news about the suit, one that included an interview with Melville Brown, Kane’s law partner. The television reporter had thrust a microphone in the lawyer’s face and demanded to know his views on the rumors that the case was being tried as a racial issue; an old-fashioned funeral home with an owner steeped in all the ancient Southern traditions and prejudices against a progressive Northeastern firm that gave preferential treatment to blacks.
The black lawyer had answered with easy competence, saying he and his client, Mr. Crompton, had no interest in perpetuating stereotypes, but were planning on winning their case on its own merits. The issue, he declared, was the financial health and well-being of the consumer of funeral services. When it was presented in those terms, he was sure the jury would disregard any attempts by the defendant to confuse matters and would vote according to their common sense and their consciences. The reporter, in his closing remarks, seemed to cast doubt on that idea, signing off with a shot of Crompton’s Funeral Home in the background and the comment that the whole country would be watching Baton Rouge and the little town of Turn-Coupe to see the outcome of this landmark case.
Regina lay awake thinking about the report. Somehow it had never occurred to her that the case would be of national importance. That fact made it that much more necessary for Kane and his partner to win.
She couldn’t stand the idea of Gervis triumphing over a man like Lewis Crompton, hated the thought of him coming into Turn-Coupe and building some modern monstrosity of a funeral services building, then charging the farmers and other hardworking people she’d met at Luke’s house three times the normal burial rate in order to line his pockets.
Something had to be done to stop it.
Someone who knew all the dirty tricks and underhanded deals Gervis had pulled over the long years needed to come forward with what they knew. Someone like her.
She had thought she would have to offer the knowledge she held of Gervis Berry’s organization to Kane in exchange for his help in freeing Stephan. It hadn’t been necessary. Now she’d do it for no reason except that it was right.
Or perhaps there was one other reason. She owed something to Kane and his grandfather, to Luke and all the others. They had done so much for her, and now it was time to repay them.
The Benedicts weren’t the only ones who paid their debts.
19
A dull droning, like a swarm of flies, hung over the courtroom. Every seat was filled and more people milled around in the hall outside, a situation unchanged since the trial got underway a week ago. From the comments Regina had overheard around her, she thought Mr. Lewis’s friends and neighbors, black and white, were united in supporting him against the big corporation that was trying to run him out of business. They also seemed to have an Us-versus-Them feeling about the proceedings, as if the Northeastern funeral home syndicate had become the symbol of another Yankee invasion. It was mentioned with chuckles and sidelong glances, but the aura of partisanship was strong.
More than a few of those attending today were either Benedicts or family connections who had made the drive to Baton Rouge. Luke and Miss Elise, as usual, had commandeered places directly behind the plaintiff’s table where Melville sat with Mr. Lewis. April Halstead and Dora were seated a few rows back, while Dr. Watkins was on the center aisle not far away, where he could stretch his legs. Those around Regina, who were more distantly related, craned their heads and stared and murmured among themselves, with the names of the participants, especially Kane’s, mentioned again and again in one context or another. She listened closely as she had all along, grateful for both the distraction and the information that she could tuck away to complete the picture of the man who had come to mean so much. At the same time, she enjoyed the endless other bits about family marriages, divorces, births, deaths, school accomplishments, job prospects, and the comparative health of different members. It allowed her to pretend, at least for the moment, that she was a part of it all.
She was helped in the last by Betsy North, who sat with her on the back bench she had chosen, there on the other side of Stephan. Kane’s cousin provided a running commentary on anyone under discussion. She also introduced Regina to lots of people, giving her name in an easy, offhand fashion which suggested there was nothing in the least unusual about her being in court. She could almost believe that herself since no one seemed to connect her with Gervis Berry.
That was before she caught a brief glance from the corner of one woman’s eye as she turned away from her. It was avid yet resentful, and showed plainly that Regina had been targeted as being from the enemy camp. Whether from something Slater had said, a stray memo or fax, or some casual remark by a New York lawyer, the news of her association with Gervis was apparently out at last. In a way, it was a relief since it meant she could stop dreading the revelation.
Gervis, when he appeared, seemed totally unaware of the undercurrents. He marched into the room with his usual swagger, surrounded by a phalanx of lawyers like a living barrier between him and the onlookers. With his Armani suit, two-hundred-dollar tie, and irritable attitude, he
looked as if he felt the whole thing was a waste of his valuable time, something he was impatient to have over and done with as soon as possible.
Moments later, Betsy sat forward in her seat. “Oh, look, Kane’s here today,” she said, almost falling off the bench in her excitement. “You sure can’t tell by looking at him that he’s got a hole in his side.”
Regina followed Betsy’s gaze. Kane was just threading his way through the crowd, shaking hands, smiling, nodding, tossing off quips as he went. He looked tanned, fit, at ease on his home ground, with no strain whatever showing in his face or his movements.
Somewhere inside, she felt the ebb of tension she had not known she was holding. This was the first time Kane had appeared in the courtroom since the trial began. All the reports on his condition had said he was fine, but she hadn’t been able to accept them until now.
“That’s him, that’s the man who came to get me?” Stephan asked in awe. He slid off the seat and stood up, staring at Kane.
Regina’s voice was husky as she confirmed it. Her son had made a hero of the paragon who had been able to take him away from his nurse and Michael. The fault was as much Betsy’s as it was hers, since the motel owner had taken a shine to Stephan and fired his imagination with all sorts of tales about Kane. Still, Regina had done nothing to stop it. Her son seemed to need a man to look up to just now, and she could think of none better.
“Maybe I could tell him thank-you.” Stephan looked at her with anticipation shining in his eyes.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Regina said in quick concern as she reached to smooth his hair back from his forehead. “He’s a very busy man.”
Betsy gave her a puzzled glance above Stephan’s head. “Not so busy he won’t have time for a kid. Honestly, you ought to know Kane better than that.”
“Well, yes, but now isn’t a good time,” she answered evasively. It wasn’t that she thought Kane would slight Stephan. Rather, she didn’t feel up to facing him herself any time soon and certainly not in so public a place.
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