by Jo Goodman
Jay Mac sat on the edge of Rennie's bed, careful not to jostle her tray. He studied the board for a moment. "It won't last three more moves if I do. He's coming at you from all sides. Go on, Jarret. You can have in her check."
Startled, Rennie reexamined the board, then Jarret's smug smile. She sniffed delicately, flattening her mouth primly, and went back to cutting her meat. "I think you moved something while I wasn't looking," she said testily. "I refuse to believe I've lost fairly."
Now Jay Mac laughed. He gave Jarret a pat on the back, reminding him dinner would be within the half-hour, and that their appointment was at eight. He kissed Rennie on the cheek, patted her uninjured shoulder, and left.
The door had barely closed when Rennie turned on Jarret. "What appointment? What are you and my father doing?"
Jarret moved his black knight. "Check."
Rennie wagged her fork at him, refusing to even glance at the game board. "I'm not a train. I can't be so easily sidetracked."
"It has nothing to do with you," Jarret said.
"I didn't think that it did. It was a simple enough question."
He gave her an arch look. "Nothing is ever simple with you, Rennie."
"You're doing it again," she said. "I won't be dismissed like that, Jarret. My mother and sisters have been doing it all week. Even Jay Mac won't give me straight answers. Then they have the gall to wonder why I'm so miserable being cooped up in this room. You've been the only one to talk about what happened, what really happened."
"I think the others didn't want to distress you."
"Well, I am distressed. And I have been since I woke up in this bed with Dr. Turner leaning over me. I'm not used to being shot."
Jarret managed to choke back his laughter. "It's not the sort of thing one gets used to," he said dryly.
"You know what I mean. I think I have a right to know more than anyone, including you, has thought fit to tell me. It isn't fair, Jarret."
Pushing aside the table and chessboard, Jarret stretched his legs in front of him. He recognized Rennie's stubbornness. It was in the shape of her seriously set mouth, in the tension around her emerald eyes. Her feathery brows were drawn fractionally together. The curling strand of dark red hair that lay across her left cheek fluttered slightly as she worked a muscle in her jaw.
Her skin was flushed, not the unnatural, fevered flush that had waxed and waned for the better part of the week, but the flush of frustration and impatience. Two buttons at the neck of her nightshirt had been unfastened, exposing the hollow of her throat and part of her collarbone. She should have looked fragile. With her chin jutting at that defiant angle, with the pulse beating hard in the side of her neck, with the tense rise and fall of her breath, Rennie looked unbreakable.
It was a sure sign that she was recovered.
Jarret's fingers threaded through his hair. The shape of his mouth changed, puffing slightly, as he slowly exhaled. "I don't think any of your family meant to be secretive by design, Rennie; it simply unfolded that way. On your second day here you took a fever, and no one wanted to do or say anything that would impede your recovery."
Rennie put down her fork. She had little interest in her food now. "Such as..."
"Such as your mother collapsing when she first saw you being carried in the house." His voice grew grave and quiet. "And again when she saw Jay Mac hovering over her in the entrance hall."
"Poor Mama, seeing Jay Mac like that... with no warning. She must have thought she'd died and gone to heaven." Rennie's eyes clouded because what she saw in Jarret's troubled face didn't quite fit her facile explanation. "But she's all right now, isn't she? I mean, she's been flitting in and out of here, caring for me all week. It was just a fainting spell, isn't that right? The shock of everything..." She stopped. "What else is it, Jarret?"
"Moira was going to have another child, Rennie. She lost the baby that night." He watched Rennie's face drain of color, her eyes darken and widen. "It's not your fault," he said quickly. "And if you go on believing it for even another minute, you'll be justifying your family's avoidance of telling you. It wasn't the shock of seeing you or Jay Mac, or even the fall. She'd been having pain for some time. Dr. Turner said there was nothing that could have been done, that weeks ago he and your mother discussed that she might not be able to carry the child to term. Your mother's beyond the years when most women can even conceive."
Tears made Rennie's eyes shine. "It doesn't matter," she said softly, sadly. "She loves babies. And Papa... he must be grieving. Did he know about Mama's condition before he went west?"
"No. Apparently your mother wasn't certain herself until after you had already left to search for Jay Mac." He could see immediately that Rennie was blaming herself again. "Don't do it, Rennie. Moira had Maggie and Skye here to help her. If you hadn't gone, you couldn't have brought Jay Mac back to her. He hasn't left the house, and he's hardly ever left her side since we returned."
"I thought it was because he was avoiding Nina and the newspaper reporters."
"You know about the reporters?"
She nodded. "If I stand at the window at just the right angle, I can see one or two of them pacing the sidewalk in front of the house. Once in a while a beat cop runs them off. Do you mean he hasn't spoken to anyone about his return?"
"He let Logan Marshall in a few days ago. He gave the story to the Chronicle so the other papers would have to make some allowances for the truth in their articles. Your father hasn't been completely forthcoming, either. We've only been through the first ripples of scandal. No one knows that Jay Mac believes, for instance, that it was his wife who tried to kill him and shot you instead. No one save Marshall knows that Jay Mac was probably the intended target. Most people believe you were simply caught in the crossfire of a gun battle between me and one of my bounties."
"Jarret! That isn't what happened. I don't want people believing that somehow you're responsible!"
"You don't have a choice," he said flatly. "Argue about it and I'll rethink my decision to tell you what I haven't before."
Rennie set her mouth in a mutinous line. Only her flashing eyes argued her thoughts.
"Very wise." Jarret leaned back in the armchair and raised his legs, hooking his heels on the walnut bed frame. "The fact that your father hasn't left the house has only been in part because of Moira. I've been insistent that he remain here as well. Moira's condition and your own have made it easier to convince him of the necessity of it, but I've warned him what I would do if he crossed me."
Rennie blinked. "You threatened my father?" she asked, incredulous.
"I like to think I reassured him that I would do my job." His eyes dropped away from Rennie's face to her shoulder. He could see the bandages through the material of her shift. "There will be no more incidents like the one that almost got you killed."
"That wasn't your fault, Jarret. You saved my father's life."
"It wasn't supposed to be at your expense."
Rennie removed the tray and placed it on the table. She dropped her napkin on top. Without warning, she threw back the covers and put her legs over the side of the bed.
Her feet went between Jarret's outstretched ones, and when she stood his were nudged aside. She was trapped in the vee of his legs, exactly where she wanted to be. Leaning forward, she braced her arms on the rounded arms of Jarret's chair. Her face was level with his.
"Get back in bed, Rennie. What do you think you're—"
"I love you," she said. Her voice was tense as pain shot through her injured shoulder. She ignored it. "I know you love me. I heard you... at the station. Please tell me I did, that I didn't imagine it."
"Rennie, get back in—"
Her eyes implored him. "Jarret."
He didn't say anything for a long time, searching her face as she searched his soul. His fingers closed around her wrists, and with a gentle tug he pulled her forward and onto his lap. "You didn't imagine it," he said finally, reluctantly.
Rennie's legs curled as she
leaned into him. Her slender fingers threaded through his. "Why don't you want to say it?"
He didn't answer. She hadn't thought it all through yet; he knew that. Her legal annulment had already been finalized. Thanks to the influence of Judge Halsey, the decree had been waiting for Rennie when she returned. But in the eyes of the church, Rennie was still very much a married woman. Jarret didn't see things so differently, and neither, in truth, did Rennie. "You should be back in bed," he said.
"I'm where I want to be. Don't chase me away."
He shook his head. As always, she credited him with more strength than he had. He wanted her right where she was. He could mouth a different sentiment, but in his heart he couldn't push her away. "I'm accompanying your father to a meeting at the Worth Building tonight. His intention is to do some... spring cleaning, I think he called it. This will be the first time he's met with anyone from Northeast."
"Hollis will be there?"
"He was invited. He'll have the opportunity to answer Jay Mac's accusations. Afterward we're going to see Nina."
"My God," Rennie said softly. "My father doesn't mean to accuse Nina, does he? There's no proof that she was at the platform. You couldn't identify her. I never saw her. Neither did Jay Mac."
"I think I'll know the truth when I see her face to face," Jarret said. "But I don't think it matters one way or the other to your father. Even if I could say with certainty that it was Nina who did the shooting, Jay Mac doesn't mean to accuse her or press charges."
Rennie frowned. "Then, what does he—"
"He hasn't fully confided in me, Rennie, but I think your father intends to demand a divorce."
For a full minute she couldn't say anything. Her head rested against Jarret's shoulder. Both her hands closed around one of his. She held it near her heart. Her closed eyes held back the press of tears. "I can't find it in myself to take any happiness in it," she said at last. "It's so sad... all of it." She sniffed and swiped at her eyes. "Do my sisters know?"
"I think so. They've been whispering among themselves lately."
"Mama?"
"I believe she and your father have talked it over. There have been hints. No one's saying anything to me, Rennie. It's not my business. It's not even yours or your sisters'. This is between Jay Mac and Nina and your mother."
"I know," she whispered. "I didn't want to be consulted. Only informed."
"I could be wrong about it," he said.
"No. No, you're not. I've been feeling the tension, the anxiety of the others' unspoken thoughts. If Nina consents, he'll marry my mother—if she consents."
"Can you imagine Jay Mac giving either woman a choice?"
Rennie's smile was faint, wistful. "He'll steal Mama away."
"It'll be another scandal."
"In light of all the others, a mere peccadillo." Her hands squeezed his. "Did Jay Mac ask you to go with him tonight?"
"No. He wouldn't do that. I volunteered." Jarret felt the full force of her doubting look. "Actually, I insisted."
"Is Nina expecting Jay Mac?"
"No. It would have been a little foolish to inform her."
"To invite Hollis to the board meeting tonight was foolish."
"I doubt it. If he comes, it's because he thinks he can talk himself out of everything we suspect. If he doesn't come, then he's as good as admitted his guilt. More to the point, if he doesn't come, I suspect he's long gone from New York. I don't think he'd wait around to be arrested for fraud and embezzlement against Northeast."
She sighed. "I wish I could be there. I'd like to accuse him of a few things myself."
Jarret could imagine. He helped Rennie to her feet and back into bed. "I have to go to dinner. Your family's probably already wondering what's keeping me."
She sniffed haughtily. "Of course they'd never believe you could prefer my miserable company to theirs."
"God, no," he said, straight-faced. "They'd never believe that. I'll have to think of something else to tell them." He kissed her swiftly on the mouth, pressing hard. It was the first time he had kissed her since leaving Echo Falls, and the sweet taste of her made him want to linger. He just managed to walk away.
He also just managed to duck the pillow she sailed at his head.
* * *
Minutes before he was due to leave with Jay Mac, Jarret poked his head in the doorway of Rennie's room. Except for the firelight, the bedchamber was dark. She was turned on her side away from him, covered by a mound of blankets. He could just make out the top of her head. She had been more active today than on any day since the shooting, and he knew she was tired. Still, he wanted to kiss her. The hurried, teasing kiss he had given her earlier hadn't been nearly enough. He had thought he shouldn't tell her he loved her, now he regretted not saying the words.
Jarret had taken a step inside the room when Maggie appeared in the hallway with a tray of cookies and hot cocoa. Her presence gave him a start. Even carrying china cups and saucers, she could move without making a sound. He stepped out of the doorway and held a finger to his lips. "Your sister's sleeping."
Maggie managed to shrug without unbalancing her load. "I'll just wake her up, then. It's too early for her to sleep through till morning. She'll regret it in the middle of the night." She started to go in, then paused. "Did you want to say something to her?" she asked. "Papa's gone outside to the carriage to wait for you, but you have time."
Jarret was torn. He thought of Rennie's sweet mouth. He thought of Jay Mac outside the house with only Mr. Cavanaugh for an escort. But kissing Rennie in front of her younger sister wasn't the same as kissing Rennie when they were alone. "It can wait," he said. He held the door open, and Maggie ducked past him. "If she's awake when I get back, I'll see her then."
Maggie watched him go, smiling to herself. She placed the tray beside the bed, knocking over some of the chess pieces. They clattered to the floor. Maggie was surprised when her sister didn't stir. "You really are tired," she said, bending to pick up the pieces. She laid them out neatly on the table and spoke to her sister in a sing-song voice. "Rennie. You need to wake up. You'll be restless all night. No one wants you roaming the halls like—" Maggie straightened and leaned over the bed, frowning now. "Rennie. You can stop pretending that you don't hear me." She carefully placed her hand on her sister's uninjured shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. "I want to talk to you about—"
Maggie broke off as the shoulder she thought she was clutching simply dissolved into nothingness. "What in the—" She tore at the covers, stripping away the layers of blankets. Pillows had been laid out lengthwise, plumped just enough to assure there was substance to the mound. On the pillow where Rennie's head was supposed to be, one of her hairpieces had been strategically arranged to give the impression she was most definitely there.
Stepping back from the bed, Maggie's head twisted as her eyes darted around the room. Nothing. She quickly looked in the adjoining dressing and bathing rooms and again found no one.
"Oh, Rennie," she said sadly, leaning against the doorjamb. "How could you do this? What do you think you can accomplish?" Shaking her head, Maggie left Rennie's room. Although she ran down the hallway and the main staircase, she missed Jarret's departure. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother in the parlor. Moira's interest had been caught by Maggie's pell-mell run to the front door. Maggie took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and forced a smile in her mother's direction. All the while she approached she wondered what she was going to say.
* * *
Eleven men gathered in the boardroom at the Worth Building. John MacKenzie Worth sat at the head of the long walnut table. The flat silver tray in front of him remained unused while the ones set at regular intervals along the length of the table collected ashes and balanced the glowing tips of thick cigars. Curls of blue-gray smoke rose from trays. A haze of it hung above the men and collected in the gaslight.
Jarret Sullivan did not join the men at the table. He sat by the door, slouched, his hands resting casually on his lap,
his legs stretched negligently in the aisle, his head bent slightly forward. Although his lashes shaded his eyes and his posture gave the appearance of uninterest, even boredom, nothing to do with Hollis Banks escaped his attention.
Hollis sat at the far end of the table opposite Jay Mac. His powerful shoulders filled the breadth of his chair. His large hands lay flat on the table surface as he spoke, a bearing that seemed to indicate he had nothing to hide. As he answered questions regarding his role as director in Jay Mac's absence, he neither fidgeted nor gestured.
To Jarret's way of thinking, Hollis's very air of calm was his biggest deceit or conceit.
The Queen's Point project was at issue for everyone at the table, and Hollis handled the questions with great aplomb. "I was assured by the surveying team that the least costly route was also the best," he told the others. "Jay Mac himself relies on the information given to him by his surveyors and engineers. I can't imagine that you think it could be any different for me." He smiled genially, making certain he caught the eyes of every man, including Jay Mac. "When Mary Renee, who was then my fiancée, came to me with another scenario based on her calculations, I listened to what she had to say—in fact, I discussed her conclusions with Jay Mac—and decided, again based on the expertise of men who had been with Northeast much longer than either Rennie or myself, that she had misinterpreted her data.
"The project was begun with the approval of Jay Mac and yourselves—to the accompaniment of some fanfare, I might add—and I was named to oversee it. Jay Mac will recall, of course, that I made several requests to visit Queen's Point myself, and each time some situation here in New York prevented my departure."
Jarret's attention shifted from Hollis to Jay Mac. Although the head of Northeast Rail sat there in stony silence, Jarret could see that Hollis's last statement had taken him by surprise. Not only that, but it was evident Hollis was speaking the truth. Clearly Jay Mac had forgotten that Hollis had asked to look over the project development personally.
"The last situation, as all of you know," Hollis continued evenly, "was the accident at Juggler's Jump. The Queen's Point project had to take a position of lesser importance in light of our belief that Jay Mac was dead. When I was named to run Northeast, as per Jay Mac's own recommendation, Queen's Point was just one of the developments I had to delegate to someone else."