by Mollie Molay
“I am.” T.J. reached for Emily’s cold hand. He knew his answer was about to hit the fan and hoped to cushion what was coming next. Now that the issue of Emily’s marital state was no longer in question, T.J. sensed the lawyer still intended to get back at him for championing Emily.
“Are you or are you not the man Miss Holmes hired to pose as her husband? The man who was in the photograph she presented as proof she was married?”
His stomach in knots, T.J. waited for the other shoe to drop.
“I ask you again, Mr. Kirkpatrick. Are you the same man Miss Holmes claimed to be her husband, or are you merely his stand-in?”
T.J. thought fast. If Emily learned he’d been living a lie, would it help to explain he’d only wanted to help her after Tim had chickened out? That he’d never expected to gain something for his efforts?
The office was thick with unspoken accusations.
“I take it from your silence that you’re not the same man.” Daniels smiled his satisfaction as he glanced down at T.J.’s business card. “It wasn’t easy, but research turned up that interesting fact.” He consulted his notes. “I have it on good authority it was your brother, Timothy, Miss Holmes ‘hired’ at a bachelor’s charity auction. And that he is the man in the photograph she presented on her first visit here.”
T.J. grasped Emily’s hand more tightly. He answered the lawyer, but he gazed into her eyes as he spoke. Strangely enough, she didn’t look shocked, not even close. When had she known the truth? Why had she gone along with him, slept with him, if she knew he wasn’t Tim?
“I tried to tell Emily right away I wasn’t the man she’d bid on and won at the auction. I tried to tell her my brother and I looked enough alike to be twins. Emily needed help and, strangely enough, didn’t seem to want to believe me.”
He put his love for her in his gaze as he directed the rest of his answer to her. “After I listened to your story, Em, I realized someone had to help you. One look into your eyes that afternoon and I knew that someone was going to be me. What I didn’t realize at the time, was that I’d already fallen in love with you.”
He turned his anger on the lawyer. “Emily’s problem was the one you created in the first place by lying to her about the will. Not because I tried to help out in Tim’s place. If you’d told the truth, none of this would have happened.”
He glanced back at Emily. It damn near broke his heart to see the hurt in her eyes. Of the three men in her life, all three had lied to her. Or, in his case at least, had hidden the truth.
“Miss Holmes?”
“Leave her alone!” With a staying glance at Emily, T.J. jumped to his feet. “I’ve already admitted who I am. But I swear it has nothing to do with Emily’s inheritance.”
“I’m afraid it does,” Daniels retorted, satisfaction oozing from him like glue from a bottle. “According to what my staff has managed to discover, you and Miss Holmes are practically strangers. She may claim her inheritance, but for her sake, I feel she needs to know just what kind of man you are.”
Emily took her hand from T.J.’s and folded it in her lap. “I know what kind of a man Mr. Kirkpatrick is. He tried to tell me his identity, and while I didn’t believe him at the time, I think subconsciously I must have known the truth. I needed help, and something about him told me he was the man who could help me. Besides, I’d already fallen in love with him.” She smiled sadly at T.J. “No matter what else he’s done or who he actually is, he has helped me in more ways than he knows.”
T.J. touched her cheek in gratitude. He realized how hard it had been for her to admit to things she had never admitted before. Let alone in front of Daniels. He faced Daniels. “Now that my identity is out in the open, what’s the point of going on with this?”
“Merely to show Miss Holmes you aren’t the man she thought you were. And to demonstrate to her why her aunt wanted her to be married.”
Emily rose to leave. “What I chose to believe then isn’t important now. Legally, my aunt’s property belongs to me. If you have any papers for me to sign, I would appreciate signing them now.”
“We’re not quite through yet,” Daniels replied. He glanced down at an open folder lying on his desk. “There’s the matter of the value of the estate. In particular, the cottage on the property.”
T.J. recognized the letterhead of the County Building and Safety Land Development Office. He’d seen inspection reports often enough to imagine what it contained. He hid a shudder and prayed that his worst nightmare wasn’t about to come true. “Spit it out. What else?”
“There’s a little matter of a rumor that has been going around the building industry for years. In fact, when the cottage on the adjoining property was razed, it seems the rumor turned out to be true.” He gestured to the report on his desk. “At least, to some degree. And if I’m not mistaken…” He left the sentence unfinished at T.J.’s muttered curse.
“That’s enough!” T.J. retorted, on his feet and leaning over the desk. “Again, the rumor has nothing to do with Emily. Give her the papers and let her sign and let us get out of here.”
Privately, T.J.’s heart sank. It was beginning to look as if Daniels had done more than come up with T.J.’s identity during his research. The rumor he’d referred to had to be about any vintage motion picture posters that may have been discovered when the cottage next door had been razed. The same type of poster he’d discovered behind the wall in her aunt’s bedroom. Living in Placerville, Emily couldn’t have known about them. But why would Daniels bring it up now? And what would Emily believe if he did?
He only had himself to blame. As soon as he’d glimpsed the posters, he should have done some research of his own.
More to the point, he should have had enough faith in Emily’s love for him to tell her of his find. He should have told her then instead of waiting for the right moment. He’d been around long enough to know that sometimes the right moment never came.
“I don’t know what you’re driving at, Mr. Daniels,” Emily interrupted, “but I’ve had enough of this conversation. I don’t want to hear any more about Mr. Kirkpatrick. He has nothing to do with my inheritance. The estate belongs to me and me alone. I insist I be allowed to sign the documents that transfer it to me. And I want to do it now.”
“Of course.” With a murderous look at T.J., Daniels picked up a legal document and pushed it to the edge of the desk. “I only felt it was my duty to point out the dangers inherent in your becoming a wealthy woman. If you like, we can discuss this again later.” He pointed to the line for her signature. “Additionally, you understand that there will be my fee and a matter of taxes when title is transferred?”
Emily took the pen he offered and blindly signed on the line he marked with an X. “Send me a bill. And please see that I get a copy of the deed.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the office.
T.J. followed with a withering glance at Daniels. He wasn’t going to let Emily out of his sight until he had a chance to explain why he hadn’t told Emily about the old movie posters. Before she discovered them for herself.
HOME AGAIN, and finally alone, Emily made her way to her aunt’s bedroom. If ever she needed to feel her aunt’s loving presence, it was now. She needed comfort, just as she’d so often sought comfort when she had been a young girl.
She sank into the rocking chair, closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wooden back. With a small push of her shoe, she set it rocking.
“Aunt Emily,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do. Sell the property or stay here? After today, I don’t even know who to trust.”
The air seemed to thicken. A warmth filled the room. Emily imagined a gentle hand brush her cheek.
She turned her face into the imagined hand. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Emily,” she whispered. “I’m not married, but I did fall in love twice. And both times with men who couldn’t be trusted. I guess you’ll just have to put up with me the way I am.”
With a sign, Emily opened her eyes
. Even though T.J. had taught her life was for the taking, she couldn’t bring herself to imagine a new life without him.
Her gaze lingered on the mildewed wall. The same wall T.J. had been inspecting when she’d asked him to leave off his inspection, come back to bed keep her warm. He’d left a small opening behind him.
It might have been the beam of sunshine coming through the lace curtains at the window, but it appeared as if the room seemed to light up. She looked around the room for something to use to work on the wall and focused on the brass letter opener beside the bed. She took the opener and chipped away at the damp plaster until another section broke loose to reveal a cardboard movie poster. She took a deep breath and looked inside.
To her surprise, she caught a glimpse of a poster advertising the 1939 movie, The Wizard of Oz. A duplicate of the poster she’d seen on display earlier at the Beaumont Hotel.
Her excitement grew when she recalled the poster at the hotel had been advertised for auction at Sotheby’s with a starting bid of $9,000.
Excited now, she loosened another small section of the plaster wall. This time, she found a vintage poster advertising Greta Garbo as Mata Hari. The value of the poster was unknown to her, but the poster alongside it was that of The Adventures of Robin Hood. The face of the hero, Errol Flynn, smiled jauntily back at her.
Emily sank down on the floor and covered her lips with a trembling hand. Surely the posters had to be worth as much as the poster she’d coveted that depicted Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, and the Straw Man dancing arm in arm up the Yellow Brick Road. This must have been the fortune Daniels had hinted at!
She heard Daniels’s voice accusing T.J. of romancing her for her “fortune.” She remembered T.J. had offered more than once to buy the cottage. He’d been the one to break into the mildewed wall on the pretext of checking the wall for damage. And he’d kept his silence.
She gazed back at the posters. It didn’t take a stretch of her imagination to decide T.J. had known there was a small fortune in back of the wall.
“Emily?”
She swung around to face T.J. He was in the bedroom doorway, his body tense, his face as white as the surrounding doorjamb he leaned against.
“I was hoping to get here before you found the posters.” He slowly came into the room and stopped at the side of the rocking chair. “I wanted to be the one to tell you about them.”
By now, Emily didn’t know what or who to believe. But she did know T.J. had used her for some purpose of his own. She looked at his stricken face, the hopelessness in his gaze. “This is what Daniels was trying to tell me when he said that you were a fortune hunter. Wasn’t it?”
“Only part of what you believe is true,” he answered. “I found a poster the other day, but I had no intention of keeping it from you.”
“Why?” she said simply. “Why would you not have told me?”
“I was afraid that if you knew about the posters, you might change your mind about marrying me. I was half-afraid you’d fallen for me on the rebound, anyway. I was even afraid you’d sell out and go off to Italy.”
“So you offered to buy the property for yourself, hoping I’d never find out the truth. Or, if I did, would find it out too late. Is that it?”
“Never,” he answered. “You have to believe me. I wanted us to get married. I’d hoped to restore the cottage and put it back in its original state for you. I wanted to give it to you as a belated wedding present.”
When Emily rose and backed away from him, T.J. felt a hollow dread in the pit of his stomach. She wasn’t listening. He would have given his right arm not to have put the anguish in her eyes. If he didn’t know better, he thought his heart would break.
He had to try again. “I never would have kept the posters for myself, Em. I swear. I didn’t even know they were here when I first offered to buy the cottage from you.”
“If you didn’t know about the posters, why would you care if I sold it to someone else?” She brushed her hair out of her eyes. It was all he could do not to try to take her in his arms and kiss away the hurt in her eyes.
“Because I’ve spent the past twenty years restoring vintage buildings. The moment I saw this one, I fell in love with it. I knew it was a prime example of fine craftsmanship and priceless materials.
“I only knew you intended to sell the property,” he went on. “I couldn’t stand the idea that the cottage would be bulldozed to make way for another condo complex like the one next door.”
Emily crossed her arms around herself to hold back the pain. T.J.’s hopeful smile would have broken her heart, if she had a whole heart to break.
“It’s not only the posters,” she said sadly. “When you knew I thought you were the man I’d bid on and won at the auction, you went along with the subterfuge. You let me fall in love with you.”
She toyed with the brass letter opener and replaced it on the nightstand. “I don’t know who or what to believe anymore. But I do know I’ve had enough of men who tell lies. Men I can’t trust.”
Emily’s admission that she loved him was enough for him not to give her up without another try. He took a step toward her for one last chance to convince her they belonged together. “Emily, please listen to me. I never intended to hurt you or take anything from you. I swear I love you for yourself.”
She shook her head. “It’s too late. Please, do us both a favor and leave.”
Chapter Fourteen
If there was one thing T.J. recognized, it was a hurt woman. Not because he’d had any firsthand experience along those lines, but because he’d seen his brother Tim break female hearts since he was old enough to like girls.
T.J. knew he’d been a damn fool to hurt Emily, intentionally or otherwise.
He should have known better. He wasn’t a fool to have fallen in love with her, but for underestimating the kind of woman she was. She was true-blue, honest and loyal. The kind of woman who played for keeps. A sensitive woman whose vulnerability was one reason he treasured her so much.
He should have recognized Emily as the woman for him from the first moment he’d gazed into those incredibly trusting hazel eyes.
He knew he didn’t deserve her, but that wasn’t going to stop him from loving her. One way or another, he had to prove he was the man for her. To somehow show her he was willing to share any dreams she might have—past, present or future. And that meant swallowing his pride and going back to talk to Emily.
Seagulls glided overhead, croaking warning calls as he rang the old-fashioned doorbell. He didn’t care. He had nothing to lose except Emily, and he didn’t intend to lose her.
Instead of chimes, he heard the tinkling notes of the bittersweet song, “Over the Rainbow.” The haunting melody sung by Judy Garland in the motion picture The Wizard of Oz, which remained popular more than sixty years later. No wonder Emily had grown up dreaming of someday flying over the rainbow to Italy.
All the more reason he wanted to know if there were other dreams Emily hadn’t mentioned.
Dressed in the blue slip dress she’d worn the first time he’d noticed her, Emily came to the door and peered through the screen. His body reacted just as it had reacted the first time he’d seen her wearing the dress. If there hadn’t been a screen door between them, he would have had her in his arms and kissed their differences away.
“Good,” T.J. said, with a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
He’d been half-afraid Emily had already hightailed it back up north to Placerville.
“I’m waiting on a copy of the will. I want to be sure Daniels filed it before I leave.” The screen door remained closed. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve been thinking. May I come in?” When she hesitated, he tried a smile. “No farther than the living room couch, I promise.”
The screen door creaked on its hinges as Emily opened it to let him in and gestured to the couch. “What’s on your mind?”
Gingerly he sat down on the old-fashioned mohair
couch. He shifted uncomfortably when the short bristles dug into the back of his bare legs. “I was wondering if you’d ever stopped to think we were destined to meet?”
Emily eyed T.J.’s discomfiture. He was back to wearing khaki safari shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt and looked more like the sexy man she remembered at the building site two weeks ago. That was the trouble with the Kirkpatrick men, she mused uneasily as a renegade warmth stole over her. They were sexier than they had any right to be.
She had to do something to get away from his searching eyes before she gave in to her yearning to be in his arms. “Wait here a minute,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
T.J. stirred restlessly against the stiff bristles and wistfully eyed the red velvet cushions on the window seat. After sampling the couch, no wonder Emily had spent countless hours curled up on the soft velvet pillows gazing out the large picture window.
He knew now that whenever he thought of Emily, he would picture her there, against the velvet cushions, dreaming the childhood dreams that masked the unhappiness of an ill father and a harried mother who had little time for their only child.
“Stand up a minute,” Emily held a wine-colored cotton throw in her hands. “You’ll feel a lot more comfortable if you put this under you.”
T.J. stood while Emily tossed the throw over the couch. Her bare arm brushed his bare arm, a curvaceous hip glanced his. He heard her gasp, noted her blush as she looked away.
T.J. was pleased. Emily might think she was through with him but that didn’t seem to stop her from being aware of him or caring about him. Maybe that was a good sign. Easy does it, he told himself. He’d comment about the vintage furniture; furniture was definitely a safe subject. “If you stay, are you going to eventually change the furniture in here?”
“No.” She glanced around the room. “Yes. Maybe,” she amended as she wandered over to the piano. “But not right away, and certainly not the piano.” She lifted the lid that covered the keyboard and idly fingered the keys. “Aunt Emily was a piano teacher. I used to fall asleep at night listening to her play. The sound of the metronome keeping time when she practiced scales used to lull me to sleep.”